Ignition
by The Modern Sorcerer
Summary: Harry Potter's temper has always been rather dangerous, but it's not until things start bursting into flames that people realise exactly how fiery it is. And now that the fire's been lit, Harry isn't all that willing to let it be smothered again, in fact he's all for letting it burn. And should the Ministry or Voldemort stand in his way? Well... fire solves everything.
1. Flames

Harry James Potter swayed back and forth, the rusty chains of the swing set creaking ominously with every movement, offset only by the rumbling of distant thunder.

If one were to look at the face of young Harry, they would likely relate his expression to the approaching storm – dark and moody. And if one thought that, then they'd likely find themselves correct in their comparison, as Harry's mind indeed felt like a wild and chaotic storm to him. That was probably to be expected though, as the focus of his thoughts – the eye of the storm as it were – was a topic so dark and morbid that it was little wonder that he failed to comprehend it entirely.

Even with the way his life seemed like a constant battle, Harry Potter still couldn't understand the full concept of war.

Because despite the way that the Ministry of Magic was denying it, there was no other word for this than war. The Dark Lord – Voldemort – had returned at the end of last year, and even though he was laying low, it didn't mean he was going to suddenly decide that instead of waging war he was going to open up a bakery instead. The mental image of Voldemort's scarlet eyes glaring hatefully from above a matching frilly apron shocked Harry through his thoughts, the raven-haired wizard shuddering as he struggled to keep his meagre dinner in his stomach where it belonged.

Flinching as thunder crashed overhead, Harry blinked up at the dark clouds in shock, having not even noticed that there was a storm forming let alone having seen its approach. Shaking it off, he eyed the storm for a moment longer before pushing off the swing and stretching, starting his feet on the familiar path back to Privet Drive. If he didn't make it back before his obese cousin did, then Uncle Vernon was likely to 'accidentally' lock him outside in the rain again, leaving him out there for hours before his Aunt let him in so the neighbours didn't talk.

As he walked, Harry found his mind fading into the background again as he tugged his jacket off and tied it around his waist, the residual heat from the boiling summer's day still lingering despite the storm above.

It was kind of sad, actually.

The Ministry had refused to take a side in the war, stubbornly denying that there were even sides to take as they insisted that Harry was an 'attention-seeking brat'.

Voldemort on the other hand, had made his side rather clear, what with his murder of Cedric Diggory and his constant attempts to kill Harry himself while taking over the world.

And where was the Good to balance out Voldemort's Evil?

No seriously… Where _was_ Dumbledore? He certainly wasn't answering any of Harry's letters. Whatever the Headmaster was doing to fight Voldemort, he wasn't including Harry in it. Wherever Ron and Hermione were, _they_ were involved, that much Harry had managed to glean from their quick letters before they'd stopped coming weeks ago. But despite Harry being more experienced when it came to fighting Voldemort, he was still trapped with his 'loving' family while his friends pretended he didn't exist.

And kidnapped his owl… he couldn't forget that Hedwig hadn't returned from her latest attempt to get information from his friends. He didn't think he could ever forgive them for that.

Well screw them then… and screw Dumbledore in particular. If they were going to treat him like this, then the least he could do would be to return the favour.

His vision blurring suddenly, Harry paused to lean against the wall, waiting for the dizzy spell to pass. And of course, just because this summer hadn't been the absolutely best one he'd ever had, it felt like Harry was coming down with something. He kept breaking out into sweats, his hands had been itchy and red, and to make it all better there was this strange fatigue that made him want to say 'Go to Hell' to the Dursley's overwhelming list of chores and stay in bed all day.

As his vision returned, Harry pushed off the wall and started down the alleyway between Magnolia and Wisteria, flexing his stiff fingers and slowly cracking the joints. Pausing only when sharp pain lanced through his hand, Harry let out a dark hiss as he gently massaged the back of his hand, cautiously wiggling his fingers in fear that the pain would return again. It was only when he managed to stretch both hands without feeling another stabbing pain that Harry relaxed, part of him wondering if he should find a way to contact Madam Pomfrey just in case. Still wiggling his fingers tenderly, Harry rolled his shoulders before turning his hand palm up, pausing for a moment before snapping his fingers.

A sharp jolt – like electricity – shot down his arm into his hand.

And the damp newspaper he could see on the ground beyond his fingers burst into flames.

Mouth open in shock, Harry looked between his fingers and the burning newspaper in horror, wishing he could deny the connection between that spark and the igniting newspaper. Carefully raising his hand, he sent it a nervous look, wiggling his fingers hesitantly as if any movement could set something else on fire – which as far as he knew, it could. When nothing happened, Harry breathed out a sigh of relief, before steeling himself and pointing his hand at a random piece of rubbish littering the alleyway.

 _Snap_

A nervous laugh fell from Harry's lips as the foam cup shuddered before bursting into flames as well, the fifteen year old taking aim at some more rubbish before snapping again, a faint grin tugging at his lips as it too ignited. "This is _wicked_ ," he exhaled slowly, watching as a plastic bag burst into flames upon a snap of his finger. "Absolutely mad," he admitted with a small shrug as he set something else alight, "But wicked".

How in Merlin's name was he doing that? It was like no type of magic he'd ever heard of before. And to be perfectly honest, even though Harry wasn't able to feel his own magic within him as strongly as some of the others in his year, he just knew that the little jolt of electricity he felt _wasn't_ magic. But if it wasn't magic what was it? It most certainly wasn't a _muggle_ thing, to be able to start fires with a snap of one's fingers. And if it wasn't magic, and it wasn't muggle, then what _was_ it?

It was natural… Harry didn't know how he knew, but he knew it felt natural, like he was supposed to be able to do it. For a moment, he wondered if Ron or Hermione had ever heard of it, before remembering that it wasn't exactly like they'd answer him even if he did ask.

Feeling his good mood going down the drain rapidly as he thought of his traitorous friends, Harry didn't hesitate to snap his fingers, a wide grin splitting his face as he watched a ruined flier ignite. "Awesome," he murmured to himself, "Totally awesome".

The sound of footsteps made him stiffen, quickly shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans as he stomped on the smoking paper. Turning to face the source of the footsteps, Harry felt his mood plummeting again as the hulking silhouette of his cousin shambled into the mouth of the alleyway, making him fight the urge to gag at the sight of Dudley gnawing on the king-sized bar of chocolate clutched in his fatty fist.

Resisting the desire to twitch as he felt a bead of cold sweat running down the back of his neck, Harry instead straightened his back and shoulders, knowing he couldn't show any weakness in front of his prison-bound cousin. "What's up Big D?" Harry asked innocently, watching as his cousin froze and stared at him in a mix of fear and disgust, "Beat up another ten year old for that?"

"This one deserved it," Dudley spat, coming to a stop just outside of arm's reach from Harry. "He cheeked me, he did".

"Really?" Harry drawled slowly, faking surprise. "Did he say you look like a pig that's been taught to walk? Cause that's not cheek, Diddykins, that's an understatement," he taunted smugly.

As his cousin's fleshy jaw twitched and his face flushed in anger, Harry just grinned. While he couldn't draw his wand on Dudley, he could always relieve stress by insulting his cousin, since the fat boy was too slow to catch the youngest Seeker in a century.

"Think you're a big man carrying that _thing_ do you?" Dudley sneered angrily. "Don't have the guts to take me on without it do you?"

"As opposed to you," Harry countered, nodding at Dudley's stomach, "You're pretty much all gut, aren't you? And to be fair," he added as a thought struck him, making him pull his hands from his pocket and open them, showing his cousin they were empty. "I don't need my wand to be twice the man you are… whereas you're just the size of two men".

Not bothering to hide his grin as Dudley glared at him, Harry just tilted his head slowly, "In fact… I bet I could do whatever I wanted to you, and uh 'my kind', they wouldn't do a thing to stop me," he lied casually. He hadn't seen a single feather, let alone an entire owl since he first started setting things on fire, something that only cemented the fact that it wasn't magic he was using. And if it wasn't magic, that meant that Harry could use it as much as he wanted without getting expelled for it, all the while he would claim that it _was_ magic to his 'family' who wouldn't know better.

"N- No you couldn't," Dudley stuttered, "You wouldn't dare".

"Wouldn't I?" Harry asked innocently, raising his hand and preparing to snap it, "Why not? It would only be fair, it'd be kind, in fact. I could help you _burn_ off that extra weight you've been carrying around". As Dudley paled, Harry pulled his hand back and clucked his tongue, barking out a laugh as the lights went out at that precise moment, a loud _thud_ echoing through the alleyway as Dudley hit the ground in a dead faint.

Shaking his head as he laughed, Harry sighed and lowered his hand, watching his cousin for a moment before sighing once more. "It feels like I'm torturing a puppy or something," he said to himself as he eyed Dudley's unconscious form, "A really stupid puppy". A flicker of guilt rose up in his chest before he ruthlessly pushed it back down. Just because _he_ had known he'd never actually set his cousin on fire, didn't mean Dudley had known that, and now he felt like an utter jerk for scaring his cousin so badly that he fainted.

Looking around at the street-lamps at either end of the alleyway, Harry couldn't help but chuckle again. He couldn't deny that it was perfect timing though, even if he wasn't so sure about _why_ the lights had gone off, it definitely hadn't been him. He couldn't feel his magic within him, nor had he felt the spark of his fire-power thing. Rubbing his chest as a feeling of sudden cold stabbed into it, Harry quickly pulled his jacket back on, groaning as the cold reached deeper than he'd ever imagined it could after such a hot day.

Shaking his head again as something whispered at the back of his mind, like a voice at the edge of his hearing, Harry used his foot to kick some rubbish into a pile closer to Dudley. He couldn't leave his cousin here, and he already knew that trying to wake the sleeping whale was an impossible task, so the best he could do was make sure they both didn't freeze.

 _Snap_

Frowning for a moment, looking between his hand and the pile of rubbish, Harry snapped his fingers again – and again… and again… and again. Annoyance flaring through him at the sixth snap, Harry breathed out a sigh of relief as the spark – sparked – again and the rubbish _finally_ caught fire.

Anger then? Anger was the trigger? He could do that, he'd been so angry lately that it was no wonder this power of his had manifested now.

Reaching numbing hands out to the weakly crackling fire, Harry shivered and rubbed them together. Something was wrong, he could feel it in his gut. Even with the storm brewing above his head there was no way that this level of cold was nat- _ice_.

Watching as his breath crystallized in front of him, the faint light shimmering across the surface of ice crawling across the wall towards him, Harry slowly stood and backed away from his cousin. Surrendering to the urge to draw his wand, he shifted it across to his left hand as he looked up and down the alleyway, raising his right hand to aim it in the direction of one of the dark figures at either end.

Suddenly glad that Dudley was still unconscious as the two dementors started forward, boxing them both in the alleyway, Harry quickly changed tracks mentally and instead thought about the years of abuse he'd suffered at his cousin's hands. He thought of Peter Pettigrew, about how the rat betrayed his parents and then got to live the pampered life as a family pet afterwards. He thought of Cedric's death, about how unfair it was for the seventeen year old, about how he had died so young. He thought of the betrayal of his friends, of how they had turned on him so easily like they had done. He thought of the Ministry, of their constant claims of insanity, despite the fact he was willing to prove it once and for all.

And then he thought of home – of Hogwarts – of the castle he'd never see again if the dementors kissed him.

 _Snap._

* * *

 **IGNITION**

* * *

 **Hello everyone and welcome to Ignition; my response to my own** _ **'Fire Solves Everything'**_ **challenge which can be found below. This story follows a new angle I've never attempted before so I'm really looking forward to seeing how this unfolds. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do.**

 **Oh, and I don't own Harry Potter.**

* * *

 **IGNITION**

* * *

Harry Potter's temper has always been rather dangerous, but it's not until things start bursting into flames that people realise exactly how fiery it is. And now that the fire's been lit, Harry isn't all that willing to let it be smothered again, in fact he's all for letting it burn.

 **Requirements**

Fire Elemental Harry.

Begins any time after Harry discovers magic.

Harry's powers are unlocked during/after one of his canon adventures.

Either Ron or Hermione must initially react badly to Harry's power.

Elementals are rare, and thus it causes a stir when it is revealed.

Harry cannot have a 'true' mentor, he is self-trained in his powers.

 **Morality**

Any.

 **Pairing**

Any.

 **Forbidden**

Naive/Canon Harry.

Harry surrendering his control over fire.

Godlike Harry.

 **Suggestions**

Other elementals in HP verse.

Crossovers.

Harry controlling more elements than just fire.


	2. Letters

"DUDDERS!"

Wincing at his Aunt's shriek, Harry just shoved past her, unashamedly dropping Dudley's limp bulk to the floor before staggering over to the stairs and collapsing onto them. Biting back the growing desire to hurl at the sight of a nightgown clad Petunia, he could only awkwardly stretch and clutch at his aching back, Dudley being no lighter when he was unconscious than he was when he was awake. Watching in disgust as his singlet and boxer wearing Uncle came rushing out of the kitchen at his Aunt's screams, Harry sneered at the sight of them both fussing over Dudley as they lifted him up and dragged him into the kitchen.

Merlin, that was the grossest thing Harry had ever seen… and he had caught Seamus 'reading' a copy of PlayWizard Weekly last year – those were images that Harry would never get out of his mind…

 _Moving_ images…

Rather grateful that he had unsurprisingly been ignored by his relatives, Harry slowly pushed himself to his feet, rolling his aching shoulders carefully. Feeling something catching in his throat he coughed harshly, starting as a small cloud of ash escaped his mouth before cringing as he realized that meant he'd accidentally _inhaled_ dementor. Running a hand through his hair and dislodging more ashes, Harry decided that he definitely needed a shower and moved to start up the staircase, only managing to get one foot on the bottom step before his Uncle's voice rang out through the house.

"BOY! GET IN HERE! NOW!"

Sighing under his breath, Harry removed his foot from the step and turned to move cautiously into the kitchen, pulling a face as he took in the sight of Petunia fluttering around Dudley with a wet towel in order to clean up the puke on his face. Easily stepping around the puddle of vomit in the middle of the floor, Harry just raised his eyebrow casually at his Uncle, refusing to cower back under Vernon's furious look. He hadn't done anything to Dudley, after all, unless one wanted to count the way Harry had _saved his life_.

"What... have you done... to my son?" Vernon growled as he puffed his chest out in an attempt to make himself look bigger.

"Nothing," Harry answered honestly, knowing perfectly well that the large man wouldn't believe a word he said. "But if you want, I can go get the ones that did," he offered coolly even as his Uncle's moustache quivered angrily, "I'm sure the dementors would like to finish sucking out his soul like they were before _I_ stopped them".

"What did he do? Son? Did he use – was it you-know-what?" Vernon demanded turning on his son as he completely ignored what Harry had just said.

As Dudley nodded, Harry just rolled his eyes, having expected that as well. They couldn't even have a power cut without him being blamed for it, Harry was certain that if the world ended – as it seemed to do whenever his relatives were forced to acknowledge him – they'd still find a way to pin it on him.

"What did that _thing_ do to you Dudders?" Aunt Petunia simpered, still mopping her son's face with the puke-covered towel.

"I didn't do _anything_ ," Harry repeated, making his Aunt and Uncle glare at him hatefully. "The reason he's like that, is because he decided to wake up in the middle of a dementor attack!" he exclaimed, "It's not my fault!"

"Was so," muttered a petulant Dudley, making his parents instantly swoop over him and fuss with his hair and pat his cheeks.

"Go on, son," Vernon said assuringly, "What did that little bastard do to you?"

"Pointed his hand at me," Dudley mumbled, going green suddenly and swaying slightly.

"Because pointing at people is _such_ a crime," Harry deadpanned as Petunia rushed over to get a bowl for Dudley to clutch to his chest.

"Silence you," the horse-faced woman hissed, "Come on darling, tell us what happened".

"It all went dark," Dudley continued weakly, "Everything dark. I fell".

"The street-lamps went out and the moon was covered by clouds," Harry interrupted, anger burning in his chest as his hands curled into fists. "Your son's an absolute genius, by the way," he added as he started pacing, his mind racing with his own problems – namely, what were two dementors doing in Little Whinging?

"Then… then I h-heard… _things_. Inside my head".

At this, Vernon and Petunia exchanged horrified looks. If the thing they hated most was magic – well Harry first, then magic – and third came neighbours who were better than them (read: all of them), then coming in an easy fourth was people who heard voices and other insane 'weirdos'.

"Wha- what did you h- hear? Popkins?" questioned Aunt Petunia nervously; looking like her world was coming down around her.

As Dudley shook his head, his jaw clenching tightly, Harry stopped in his pacing to have a brief thought – what would Dudley… spoiled pampered bullying Dudley… be forced to hear when near the dementors? But alas, the thought was only brief, as the only answer Harry could come up with on short notice would be the words 'We're all going on a diet' and 'I'm sorry Sir, but we can't super-size your meal'.

"Are you happy now?" Vernon asked, Harry taking a moment to realise his Uncle was talking to him. "You've finally done it. You've finally driven him loopy!"

" _Vernon_!"

"Just look at him Petunia! Our boy has gone _yumpy_!" Vernon exclaimed, gesturing to Dudley whose eyes had crossed as he swayed back and forth. "That freak has put some… some crackpot spell on him so he'd hear voices!" he continued, making Petunia's eyes narrow in a dangerous glare as they both turned to glare at Harry. "I've had it with that boy," Vernon muttered, the two of them staring at him, "I say we toss his ungrateful rear out into the cold, that'd show him".

"Go ahead," Harry shot across the room as his feet took up pacing again, a hand rising to brush some more ashes from his hair. "Do me a favour why don't you? Do you think I actually _want_ to be here?" he demanded, faltering as his Aunt and Uncle both made indignant noises at his question. "If I could, I wouldn't have come back here _at all_! But no, I'm stuck here, because if I were to leave then the blood wards would fall. And we can't have _that_ now can we?" he shouted.

"Blood what? You're doing _what_ with my blood?" Vernon began, drawing himself up to begin ranting again.

"Your blood? What in Merlin's name would I want with _your_ blood?" Harry countered with a glare. "It's _her_ blood that's affected here, not yours," he explained, gesturing at his Aunt. "As long as she and I both live under this roof, there's a ward – a protection – against dark wizards and people who want to hurt us. And trust me, I would have left years ago, leaving this little ward to fall, but apparently people would actually _want_ to come after you because of me".

"We're in danger because of you?"

"Oh yeah," Harry agreed quickly, letting the fiery anger burning at his fingertips run free. "So _please_ , throw me out! That way, I can wash my hands of you, and then when _more_ dementors show up to suck out your souls I can just skip off into the sunset whistling without an ounce of guilt!"

"Dementoids? What the ruddy hell are dementoids?" Vernon snarled suspiciously, looking both terrified of the idea of losing Harry's protection and joyful of the idea of losing Harry.

"They guard the wizard prison, Azkaban," Aunt Petunia corrected absently, the woman quickly clapping her hands over her mouth in horror, with Vernon looking at her as if she'd said the most foulest swear word imaginable to man. "I heard that… _wretched_ boy telling _her_ about them," She defended quickly, "Then she warned me about then, told me if I ever felt like that I should run and never look back".

"She tried to save your life, and you can't even use her name," Harry mused out loud, smirking at his Aunt as she flinched at his words.

"These… these _things_ exist then?" Vernon asked nervously, ignoring the way Harry had claimed so the entire night and instead turning to his wife – even if he stood at a distance and eyed her like she was sick. "These Dementy-whasists are real?"

When Petunia nodded, Vernon seemed to wilt in on himself, looking desperately between them as if he were hoping that someone would shout out 'April Fools!' or something.

"Well," Harry declared, clapping his hands and making his Aunt and Uncle flinch, "Not that it hasn't been lovely having this little family chat, but I absolutely hate all of you and would rather die than remain in your presence any longer".

It seemed the dementors weren't the only things to go up in flames… his patience and resistance to his relatives' usual crap seemed to have burned up as well.

"DON'T YOU-"

 _CRACK!_

As Petunia let out a startled scream and Vernon flailed backwards, Harry felt his previous anger dying out rapidly as he stared at the owl laying stunned on the floor, a letter gently floating to the ground beside it. Well… nothing defused a potentially violent situation like a kamikaze owl flying straight into the wall, it seemed, because snapping his fingers and setting his Uncle on fire was the furthest thing on his mind right now.

The letter shuddering on the floor, Harry barely had time to recognise the ' _ **M**_ ' branded on the front of the letter before it was rising up into the air and flying across the room towards him.

" _Dear Mister Potter,"_ a sickeningly sweet voice greeted, something about it making Harry want to go brush his teeth.

" _The Ministry has received intelligence-"_ ("That would be a first," Harry was unable to prevent himself from muttering) _"-that at six twenty-three this evening, you performed the Patronus Charm in the presence of a Muggle. As a clear violation, of the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery, you are hear-by_ expelled _from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry"._

What?

" _Hoping you are well, Mafalda Hopkirk"_.

As the letter fell lifeless to the ground, the gears in Harry's mind began turning immediately. He _hadn't_ cast the Patronus Charm… in fact he'd purposely put his wand back in his pocket when he realised that he could use fire against the dementors way more efficiently. He'd put his wand away just so something like _this_ wouldn't happen, and yet it had happened anyway.

"Justice…"

Eyes snapping up to stare at his smug looking Uncle, Harry couldn't help but snort. "I wouldn't use that word exactly," he corrected casually, hoping they couldn't hear the waver in his voice as he spoke. "I didn't use _any_ magic against the dementors," he explained as Vernon blinked at him dumbly, "And if _I_ didn't, then who is in the area that did? Then again, if I'm really the only wizard in the area," he continued as he came to a conclusion he really wished he hadn't, "Then that means that they sent this letter intentionally, because they _knew_ that there would be dementors here. The only way to defeat the dementors is the Patronus Charm," he realised, beginning to pace again and ignoring his confused relatives, "So if I'm still alive to get the letter, then logically I _had_ to have used the Patronus Charm to get away, which means…"

"What the rudding hell are you going on about boy?" Vernon exclaimed angrily, "Have you been expelled from that blasted place or not?"

"What I'm 'going on about', Uncle Vernon," Harry growled out slowly, his fingers tingling with heat, "Is that the Ministry of Magic just tried to kill me".

* * *

 **IGNITION**

* * *

 **Okay so now we get into the different angle I mentioned last chapter, and in the next one Harry takes his first step in understanding his new 'gift' as well as his first step towards becoming the confident badass I do so love reading about. Hope you enjoyed this chapter, and remember, bacon makes the world go round!**

 **Thank you to everyone who reviewed, and I don't own Harry Potter.**

* * *

 **IGNITION**


	3. Dragons

" _I've been attacked by dementors and expelled from Hogwarts for a spell I didn't cast. I want to know what's going on, and I want to know it NOW"_.

Copying those words onto four pieces of parchment and rolling them up, Harry set them at the edge of his desk before turning to peer out the window to check… and Hedwig had been owl-napped by his 'friends'.

Scowling as he stomped across his room and snatched up the parchment again, Harry clenched his jaw angrily as he glared towards the door again. How in Merlin's name was he supposed to tell anyone what'd happened here when they owl-napped his owl?

Hand clenching into a fist around the letters, Harry growled for a moment before yelping in shock as – with a tingle of electricity – the scrunched up parchment burst into flames. Dropping what little remained of the letters to the floor, Harry rubbed at the palm of his burnt hand in wonder, watching as with every swipe he brushed off more of the ash clinging to his skin. It hadn't hurt… sure he'd panicked and screamed, but it hadn't actually hurt him beyond the sudden heat and light.

Staring at his palm for a moment, wiggling his fingers slowly as he thought, a small smirk flickered across his lips. Striding across the room, he pulled a random book from the broken shelf against the wall, only glancing at the title absently to confirm it was one that Dudley had never read. With a single move, Harry had thrown the book into the middle of the room and snapped his fingers in the same movement, the dusty copy of ' _The Chronicles of Narnia_ ' bursting into flames before it even hit the ground.

Was that it? Could he only create the fire or could he do more with it? Keeping his hand extended Harry tried imagining the fire going out, scowling when nothing happened before trying to 'feel around' for the spark. He assumed he needed to feel the spark in his chest ignite before he could do anything, he only conjured fire when he felt the spark after all. But how could he come up with a way to access his spark when he didn't even know what it _was_? For all he knew he was using wandless magic to cast an _Incindio_ , if he put aside his belief in this not being magic at least, something he didn't feel right in doing.

They'd been shown how to 'feel' their magic when casting spells in DADA last year, Professor Lupin had explained that it would help prevent them from overpowering or under powering a spell. And Harry may have been horrible at it, being unable to 'clear his mind' the way Professor Lupin had explained, but even _he_ could tell that he wasn't using magic in doing this.

"Okay," he murmured aloud as he watched the book burning without a Ministry Owl in sight, "So if you're not magic, then what are you?"

Eyes scouring his bedroom for the object he knew he had hidden somewhere, Harry let out a muffled sound of triumph as he darted across the room to pull it out from underneath his desk. Setting the metal trash can in the centre of his room, he lazily kicked aside the still burning book and chucked another one (' _Prince Caspian_ ') into it. Taking a moment to stomp out the flames on the first book in the series, Harry thanked anyone that was listening that Hermione wasn't around to see his treatment of the two books before raising his hand and taking aim.

 _Snap_

 _Snap_

 _Snap_

Watching as the flames leapt and sputtered within the trash can, Harry tried to ignore the mesmerizing movements and focused on feeling the spark in his chest. Maybe it was something he'd need time to learn? He was having absolutely _no_ process at the moment, every time he tried to trace the spark he ended up completely lost and turned around, wishing he'd paid more attention when Professor Lupin had tried to show them all how to feel for their magic. He probably needed to know how to meditate to be able to track his spark, and that was only if he even _could_ do that.

Knowing as little as he did, it was more than possible that he could only start fires, not control them. It wasn't like he had an expert on weird things on speed-dial after all. If he did, then they'd basically be on the phone with each other twenty-four seven considering the things he'd seen in the Wizarding World.

Maybe he needed a therapist?

Not dismissing that idea entirely, Harry refocused on what he was doing, faltering as he realised that as he'd kept snapping his fingers the fire had gotten hotter and hotter until the metal bin was glowing a faint red. Not really having a better place to practice with, he quickly dropped his hand back to his side, grabbing the bottle of water on his nightstand and emptying it out into the bin. Dumping the burnt copy of the ' _Chronicles of Narnia_ ' into the steaming bin with the second book, he stumbled back to collapse onto his bed, staring at the smoking bin thoughtfully.

There was nothing else he could do. Not really, anyway.

Without a book or a teacher – or _any_ sort of information, really – Harry couldn't do anything bar practice and experiment with what he already could do. And he couldn't really experiment without having somewhere to do it, he knew the dangers of going around setting fires he couldn't control in a non-fire proof location. Professor Flitwick had only let them practice the _Incindio_ charm with himself and the seventh year Prefects in the room, since allowing a group of untrained magic-users to throw fire around a classroom without methods of controlling it was plain stupidity.

Head snapping up as he heard the front door opening, Harry padded over to the window and peered out, watching as his relatives herded Dudley into the car. Idiots. It wasn't even Harry's fault that Dudley was like that. If the obese boy hadn't woken up in the middle of the attack and ran straight at the non-burning dementor, then he wouldn't have been almost _kissed_ , although it would have been nice of Dudley to mention the hulking black cloaked figure that had tried to molest him. Not even Dudley was dumb enough to mistake a dementor for Harry, even if he _was_ dumb enough to believe that chocolate was a vegetable because it was made with cocoa beans.

As Vernon and Petunia zoomed off to what Harry assumed was the hospital, he backed away and fell back onto his bed once more.

What if he went to Diagon Alley? Surely there was a way into the Ministry of Magic from there? And if there wasn't then at least he could use the post office attached to the side of Eeylop's Owl Emporium to send the now-ash letters, and maybe send letters to his so-called friends cursing them to the ends of the Earth for owl-napping Hedwig.

Feeling himself perk up at the possibility of sending howlers to his friends, Harry darted across the room towards his desk, almost tripping over the metal bin in the process. He only had time to grab a quill however before a flash of feathers appeared in front of him, the owl that had swooped in through his open window giving him a dark look as he almost stabbed it with the feathered quill.

"WAIT!"

The owl landing on his windowsill and glaring again, Harry looked from the large ' _ **M**_ ' on the envelope it had dropped to the owl hopefully, his inner Hermione whispering in his ear. "I need to get a letter to Madam Bone of the Ministry, could you please wait and take it to her?" he asked slowly, "There's food and water on the perch there," he added when the owl looked like it was going to take off into the night.

Hiding his sigh of relief when the owl changed his mind and hopped over to Hedwig's perch, Harry quickly re-wrote the letter from earlier and reworded it for Madam Bones – the Aunt of fellow fifth year, Susan Bones.

" _I've just been attacked by dementors and expelled from Hogwarts for a spell I didn't cast._

 _Cast 'Priori Incantatem' on my wand if you want proof. I'll even give memories and take veritaserum, but I didn't cast any spells despite me and my muggle cousin almost being kissed by dementors._

 _Harry Potter"._

Pausing to tear open the new letter and skim over it, Harry felt mixed surges of relief and anger at its contents. _Dumbledore_ was involved now? Where the hell was he then? He certainly wasn't at Number Four checking on Harry. And what did they mean a 'disciplinary hearing'? He hadn't done anything wrong, not that he believed this was anything more than an excuse for the Ministry.

" _According to this second letter I'm now only suspended pending a hearing, but I don't see why I should have to go to a hearing for something I didn't do"_ he added in the gap between the body of the letter and his name, _"Here are both letters if you want proof"_.

Folding both letters from the Ministry up and wrapping them in his own to Madam Bones, Harry tied them together and handed it over to the impatient looking owl, watching as it dove out the window without a second look.

Was he making the right move here? His gut said he had, and his inner Hermione agreed with it even though his inner Ron thought it as too risky in case Madam Bones was in on it. His inner Ron was also hungry though, so with another look towards the open window Harry stood, trying to focus his thoughts on just grabbing something to eat before heading to bed. There was nothing more he could do tonight anyway, he could only wait and hope that Madam Bones was willing to give him a chance, although once again his inner Hermione thought he should sneak into Diagon Alley and grab some books on Wizarding Law.

What he wouldn't give to have the real Hermione there with him.

Wait never mind. If the real Hermione was there with him then he'd probably be screaming at her.

* * *

 _Everything was on fire._

 _Everywhere he looked he saw something burning, the hungry flames not slowing an inch as they rolled across gardens and leapt between houses._

 _Not even flinching as an explosion tore through the air beside him, Harry barely spared the cause of it – Uncle Vernon's car – a glance before he was walking up the footpath towards the open door. Stepping through the fiery portal, he instantly started heading upstairs, pausing for a moment to smirk at the sight of the 'loving' family photos curling and brown in the heat before continuing on his way._

 _There it was. The only thing in the house that wasn't on fire._

 _Reaching out slowly, Harry knocked on his bedroom door, not entirely sure about what he was doing but still following the script he'd never seen before. Knocking again when the door didn't open, he reached out to twist the door handle and push it open, stepping into his room and onto a floor of pure flames._

 _If Harry hadn't already been so certain that he was dreaming, then the volcano he had walked into through his bedroom door clearly screamed it to the high heavens. He didn't understand what this dream meant however, never before had he seen mention of volcanoes in his divination textbooks – which, despite Hermione and Ron's opinions, he had read. And there was no symbolism that he could see, no repeating shapes or patterns in the surging and spouting lava of the erupting volcano. Besides, most of Harry's more recent dreams were nightmares of Voldemort's return and of Cedric's death, making this dream actually rather pleasant in comparison._

 _Something black in the nearly-blinding brilliance of the lava caught his attention suddenly, and from where he was standing frozen in the centre of the rising volcano, Harry watched as a long neck stretched out of the lava to rear back above him. An ear-splitting roar made Harry flinch in the comforting heat of the lava, almost falling back into the molten substance as the dragon drew its head back and unleashed a jet of fire that engulfed him in seconds_.

* * *

 **IGNITION**

* * *

 **Ooooh! Spooky dragon! Now the story is getting interesting am I right? Of course I am, because dragons make everything better. And don't worry, our dragon friend will be returning in later chapters and an even WORSE dragon will be showing its ugly toad-like face in the next one!**

 **Thank you to everyone who reviewed, and I don't own Harry Potter.**

* * *

 **IGNITION**


	4. Bones

His relatives hadn't returned the next morning, and after a quick search through the house Harry knew why.

They'd left.

He doubted it was permanent of course, there was no way Vernon would leave his home to a 'freak' after all. He imagined that they were only going to stay in a fancy hotel room for a couple of days, hoping that he'd leave or that the Ministry would try to kill him again so they could have their house back to themselves. Petunia would probably show up later in the day to threaten him about damaging their home and to order Harry to keep it clean for their return.

Still, while they were gone he took the opportunity to make himself a proper breakfast, unable to keep his mind from drifting back to the previous night's dream. Part of him wanted to run upstairs to go through his divination books, to search for _any_ kind of interpretation that could fit, even though he was certain that he'd not find even the smallest clue. After he'd woken up feeling like his skin was about to melt off, he'd managed a quick skim of his books, but had been too exhausted to process anything he'd found before he was passing out again.

And now in the light of morning, Harry wasn't so sure he was even going to bother searching again.

He didn't know how to say it, and he didn't know how he knew it, but he did. He would find nothing in his divination books, this wasn't a 'precognitive dream' as Professor Trelawney would say, this was... this was something else. Every time he closed his eyes he saw the black-scaled dragon rising up out of the lava, he saw the fire exploding from its mouth, and he felt the invisible sting of red-hot pain burning across his skin.

And now he felt slightly nauseous.

Setting his spoon back down into his bowl of porridge, Harry leaned back and closed his eyes, trying to subdue his stomach as it revolted again him. When he finally got his nerves back under his control, he relaxed hesitantly and slowly reached out again for the spoon, getting the steaming porridge a mere inch away from his mouth before someone knocked on the door loudly.

Letting out a sigh as he pushed back his chair, Harry ignored the standing rule stating that he wasn't allowed to answer the door when the Dursleys weren't home and did it anyway. "They're not home, sorry," he apologised when he took in the woman wearing a skirt suit more expensive than anything Vernon owned, "I can take a message for you though".

The woman just raised an eyebrow at him, dark blue eyes making him feel like she could see into his soul. "I'm sure there'll be no need for that, Mr Potter," she said slowly, Harry's fingers twitching as he sharply remembered the wand he'd left on the kitchen table. "My name is Madam Amelia Bones," the woman introduced as she reached into her jacket pocket to pull out a familiar letter, "You sent me this last night did you not?"

"I did," Harry confirmed slowly, scenarios flitting through his mind ranging from being arrested for 'fraud' or just being executed on the spot.

"May I come in?" Madam Bones asked, not waiting for an answer as she strode into the house and made Harry move out of her way in fear of being trampled. "Now, I believe you will recognise this letter," she said bluntly as he shut the front door and hurried into the kitchen after her, accepting the letter that she set on the table.

" _Dear Mr Potter._

 _We have received intelligence that a Hover Charm was used at your place of residence this evening at twelve minutes past night._

 _As you know, underage wizards are not permitted to perform spells outside school and further spellwork on your part may lead to expulsion said school. (Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery, 1875, Paragraph C)._

 _We would also ask you to remember that any magical activity that risks notice by members of the non-magical community (Muggles) is a serious offence under section 13 of the International Confederation of Warlocks' Statute of Secrecy._

 _Enjoy your holidays._

 _Yours Sincerely_

 _Mafalda Hopkirk, Improper Use of Magic Office, Ministry of Magic"_

"I got this before my second year," Harry admitted cautiously, sitting opposite Madam Bones as he suddenly became aware of the fact that his wand was right beside her hand. "A house elf named Dobby cast it trying to get me expelled from Hogwarts".

Madam Bones just raised another expressive eyebrow at him with an unbelieving "Right". Clearing her throat, the woman's wand appeared in her hand from up her sleeve and she reached out to tap the letter silently, keeping it pressed to the paper as another woman's voice spoke the letter aloud like it had when he'd first received the letter. "Do you remember the voice?" Madam Bones questioned calmly, making Harry nod obediently, "Good. Now, listen to this," she instructed as she placed the expulsion letter from the night before between them and touched her wand to it.

"They're different people," he blurted the moment the voice stopped speaking, grabbing both letters and comparing the two names and signatures, "How?"

"I will admit, Mister Potter," Madam Bones began slowly, "That when I first received your letter I believed you were trying to force your way out of the charges using your fame. But," she continued, interrupting him as Harry tried to argue, "After checking the authenticity of the letter you received I found myself asking a very similar question. Why would Dolores Umbridge, the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister, be forging an expulsion letter to you when the underage magic detectors set up to monitor you showed no activity since your little 'adventure' before your third year?"

Dolores Umbridge? The Senior Undersecretary to the Minister?

"An excellent question," Harry mumbled slowly, sagging down in his chair as his thoughts ran away on him.

"A question I believe you have an answer for," Madam Bone pressed knowingly.

Staring up at Madam Bones silently for a moment, Harry shifted and casually placed his hand on the table before him, ready to snap it the moment she aimed her wand at him. "Because they win either way," he confessed, "If the dementors they sent after me gave me the kiss then I'm out of the way, but if I chase off the dementors then I _must_ have used the only spell capable of doing so, and I'm expelled for underage magic and I'm out of the way".

"This is the second time you've mentioned dementors," Madam Bones noted, smoothing out the letter he'd sent her and tapping it with her fingers, "But I found no evidence of a kiss order on you when I checked this morning. I hope you realise that accusing the Ministry of sending dementors to kiss you is a serious matter, especially since I have yet to see any proof confirming this".

"The Ministry controls the dementors, and my cousin and I were almost kissed by them!" Harry exclaimed as he stood, fighting down the spark he could feel burning in his chest. "Unless there are rogue dementors wandering the streets, then I think it's pretty obvious!"

Looking completely unbothered by his shouting, Madam Bones just raised her eyebrow again, making him sit back down awkwardly. "I have seen no _proof_ that there were dementors anywhere in the area," she repeated, Harry's eyes widening as he realised what she was asking.

"I _have_ proof," he confirmed quickly, "Both memories and veritaserum, and you can check my wand yourself," he added as he gestured to it.

"Veritaserum cannot be administered to a minor," Madam Bones denied slowly, not looking at him as she picked his wand up and tapped it with her own, "And memories can be changed".

As the incantation for the lightening charm he'd cast on his trunk before leaving the Hogwarts Express appeared in a light yellow mist from the top of his wand, Harry stared at the woman in confusion and anger. "What's the point of you even being here then?" he asked coldly, "You already knew that the expulsion was false, and you knew that none of the proof I could offer you would work. So why are you here? To finish the job?"

Something flashed through Madam Bones' eyes at his accusation and she slowly lowered both their wands back onto the table and released them. "I'm here to find the truth," she ground out, "You claim they sent dementors after you, and I admit your logic _is_ sound even if far-fetched. But without undeniable proof I cannot act, a mere accusation does not give me the right to investigate either the Minister _or_ the Senior Undersecretary".

"Then what? What happens next?"

Madam Bones sighed, leaning back in her chair as a frown crossed her face. "I do not know," she confessed slowly, "Despite your lack of evidence, I find myself believing you. The two dementors missing from Azkaban definitely support your story, but that alone still doesn't grant me the right to investigate two high-ranked members of the Ministry. The accusation of underage magic I can deal with, at least," she continued, making Harry perk up hopefully, "I have the authority to, and have already done so, erased the charges from your file. But any attempt to press charges against Dolores Umbridge would likely be met with failure because of her position under Fudge".

"So what now?" Harry asked hesitantly.

"Now? Now you get back to enjoying your holidays," Madam Bones declared as she gathered up the letters, "While I begin investigating the Senior Undersecretary. I cannot do anything else without alerting her that we're onto her, and without concrete evidence we cannot risk that". The woman slipped the letters back into her jacket pocket and stood, faltering for a moment before slowly sitting back down. "I had been attempting to avoid asking this question, Mister Potter," she admitted blankly, "But this is because of your claims that the Dark Lord has returned, isn't it?"

"I'm not an idiot, Madam Bones. I've read the Daily Prophet, I know what they're saying about me," Harry said slowly, choosing his words carefully. "Voldemort killed my parents, I wouldn't be saying he was back unless he really was".

Madam Bones sighed loudly, shaking her head at something. "I knew something was wrong about your situation, there was no way that Fudge would do something so stupid as to launch this campaign against you over nothing," she confessed, "Malfoy's doing I assume".

"Malfoy _was_ there, in the graveyard," Harry confirmed.

The woman hummed in acknowledgement, staring at the wall above his head for a moment as she sat there in thought. "Should your underage monitor register any more magic I assure you I will be here as soon as I can," she promised, refocusing her attention onto him, "Consider this permission to use magic to defend yourself without any hesitation should anyone – or anything – attack you".

As Harry followed Madam Bones to the door, a thought struck him, and he was talking before he could stop himself. "Madam Bones. Do you know of any ways to destroy dementors?"

"I take it this means Azkaban will never see those missing dementors again?" the woman asked knowingly, making him attempt a sly shrug.

"Let me see, prolonged exposure to the patronus charm can reduce them to a comatose state, but the sheer amount of power that requires makes it a nearly impossible effect to achieve," she offered, dark blue eyes narrowed at him thoughtfully, "There is Fiendfyre of course, but there is no way a fourteen year old boy managed to not only conjure Fiendfyre but destroy two dementors with it without losing control of it and burning down Little Whinging. Not to mention the way Fiendfyre leaves a permanent scar on the caster's wand, a scar your wand lacks. A Necromancer can sacrifice one newborn baby per year the dementor has been alive to destroy it," she added with a scowl that faded as she eyed Harry again.

"Will you tell me how you did it?" she questioned slowly.

He shook his head stubbornly.

"Was it dark magic?"

Harry shook his head again, hiding the fact that he had absolutely no idea.

"Then you don't know how you did it either," Madam Bones deduced, "I imagine it was likely accidental magic in that case, do not stress yourself trying to understand it".

As he stood there thinking, Madam Bones twisted on the spot and vanished with a familiar crack, leaving him alone in the house once more. What had the purpose of that meeting been? Surely the Head of the DMLE didn't just randomly show up at people's homes after they sent her a letter? Or had there been _no_ ulterior motive? What if Madame Bones had come for the very reasons she admitted to? Checking to see whether he was telling the truth or not, checking to see what had really happened.

He didn't know. And he didn't think he ever _would_ know without finding out more about Madam Bones' motivations.

And _wow_ , was this attempted murder thing making him paranoid or what?

* * *

 **IGNITION**

* * *

 **I said in the previous author's note that there were ugly toad-faced dragons inbound, so you can't say I didn't warn you. Unfortunately for Harry there's not going to be this miraculous dragon slaying going on just yet, or at all, to be honest I know I want Umbridge to suffer (like all of us) but I don't know how so just yet.**

 **Thank you to everyone who reviewed, and I don't own Harry Potter.**

* * *

 **IGNITION**


	5. Books

The Dursleys returned late that afternoon.

Well, by 'Dursleys' he meant his Aunt and Uncle, and by 'returned' he meant they came by to threaten him and collect some clothing for what they were calling a planned vacation.

Neither goal of theirs was achieved though. It was kind of Harry's fault too, he could admit that his temper got the best of him, but he wasn't self-sacrificing enough to take the entirety of the blame that lay on his Uncle's fat shoulders – especially not when he knew that _no one_ would just roll over and accept what his Uncle had said to him.

* * *

Still, as Harry lay on his bed (which was covered in the spare blankets he had 'acquired' from the linen closet), he couldn't help but grin to himself as he thought of what was perhaps the most defining moment in his relationship with the Dursleys.

" _Listen closely, Boy, I won't take any of your nonsense while your Aunt and I are on vacation. Do you hear me?" Vernon growled, his fat finger waving in Harry's face. "If I come back here to find you've done_ anything _to my house I swear I will end you the way I wanted to when you were first dumped on our doorstep. Do you understand me, Freak?"_

" _Get your finger out of my face before I burn it off," Harry answered bluntly, glaring at his Uncle darkly as anger bubbled in his chest at the casual 'I wanted to kill you' the walrus of a man had just confessed to._

" _Don't you speak to me like that," Vernon began angrily._

" _Or what?" Harry interrupted, stepping forward and watching as his Uncle almost fell over himself to get away from him. "The Ministry has already given me permission to use my magic as much as I want," he claimed, only fudging the truth a little bit, "All I'd have to say was that you attacked me and they'd turn a blind eye"._

" _You- you can't do that!" Vernon stuttered out, rising up to his full height._

" _Do you wanna bet?" Harry shot back, "The Ministry of Magic would stop any investigation by the Police before it began, and they wouldn't listen to you if you claimed I'd attacked you. Why would they listen to a Muggle over someone who's famous? You abused me for years, nothing could protect me from you. Well guess what Uncle? It's my turn now," he threatened slowly, fist clenching as he thought of how easy it would be to just burn the entire house down with a snap of his fingers, "And_ nothing _could protect you from_ me _"._

" _Are- are you threatening me?" Vernon demanded, half-bravely and half-stupidly as he tried to sneer down his enormous bulk at Harry._

" _Yes"._

 _Uncle Vernon froze instantly, looking for the life of him like he hadn't expected that answer. "Now see here, Freak," he began as Petunia came lugging some suitcases down the stairs to drop them with the rest of their large pile. "We took you in out of the kindness of our hearts, and we did not raise you to threaten us normal folk like that"._

" _Yes you did," Harry said bluntly, interrupting his Uncle without a care in the world – it was too late for niceties, he'd had enough of his Uncle's crap. "You abused me for_ ten years _and only stopped because you were afraid that the 'Freaks' had found out, I only turned out a good person because I didn't want to be anything like you!"_

 _Voldemort had been abused, and look where that had gotten him. Harry couldn't help but feel that if he were a little more angry, that if he were a little more volatile, that he would have gotten revenge for the pain they'd put him through without batting an eye._

" _And I'd hardly call it the 'kindness of your hearts' when you've already admitted you just wanted to kill me," Harry added, fury making his hands tremble as Vernon flinched._

" _I should have done it," Vernon said darkly, turning and stomping down the hallway towards the front door and a pale Petunia. "Would have done the world a favour, sent you off to join your freakish parents in Hell where they belong"._

 _Harry hadn't even been aware of what he'd done until it was already too late, the sound of his fingers snapping echoing throughout the house, followed seconds later by a scream as the suitcase Vernon was reaching for exploded._

* * *

Of course, by 'defining', he meant that he now knew whether or not he'd be stepping between them and Voldemort or not in the future. Unsurprisingly the answer was a resounding 'No'.

That didn't mean though that he didn't feel guilty for almost setting his Uncle on fire, but he couldn't help but think that major burns on the fat man's hand was barely the tip of the iceberg when Harry thought about how much pain he really owed his family. He could forgive himself for hurting Vernon when his Uncle could have killed Harry without an ounce of guilt – who had outright mourned when he found out there was no death penalty waiting for him in the wizarding world.

He still didn't want to hurt the only 'family' he had left, but he believed that if he were a little angrier… a little less Harry Potter… that he would have killed them all without a second thought.

That scared him.

He wasn't that person, the kind of person who would lash out and make the people who hurt him suffer, the kind of person to 'return the favour' of fourteen years of abuse. And the fact that he believed he _could_ have done if it the circumstances were different hit him deeper than any insult or slur people like Snape or Malfoy could hurl at him.

What also scared him was that he didn't know whether his anger was because of his new powers, if it was because of the way the wizarding world was denying Voldemort's return, or because the Ministry's obvious murder attempt had pushed him over the line.

He felt like it could go either way for him, or perhaps it could be all three ways?

Shaking it off and making himself promise to work on controlling his anger – whatever the cause – Harry pushed himself up off his bed and to his feet, stretching his shoulders as he glanced over towards the window. It was getting dark, he could think about all of this while he was making himself dinner, because well… he was hungry and the Dursleys weren't around to try starve him.

Oh yeah… he was eating bacon tonight.

Allowing himself a grin as he left his room, because the moment he lost enjoyment in the little things was the moment he lost the will to live, Harry found himself freezing as a loud smash echoed through the house. Hands snapping up with his fingers ready to snap, he slowly edged down the hallway as he heard murmuring and another smash, followed quickly by a loud distressed noise as a domino effect of shattering plates sounded from the kitchen.

Darting forward quickly, Harry didn't bother taking the stairs and merely vaulted over the railing, staggering as he landed on the ground even as he kept his hands raised defensively. His target squeaking in terror and falling backwards off the bench and into the sink, Harry blinked in confusion at the horrified-looking house-elf even as he quickly straightened up in an attempt to look casual.

"Mister Harry Potter is a naughty boy!" the house-elf squeaked out, pulling itself out of the sink and smoothing down its tea towel/dress. "Mister Harry Potter not be scaring Kronk like that!"

"Oh, I uh… sorry," Harry apologised slowly, caring more about why Kronk was in his house than about accidentally scaring the house-elf.

Kronk just flapped her (he thinks) hand at him dismissively, looking around the broken plates on the floor and cringing. "Kronk fix," she chirped, snapping her fingers and making all the plates piece themselves together before floating back up into a tower on the bench besides her.

"What are you doing in my house?" Harry questioned when the house-elf didn't say anything else, too busy straightening the plates beside her.

"Oh! Mistress Bonesy ordered Kronk to come!" the house-elf exclaimed loudly, tiny arms flailing around before pointing at the small backpack on the bench. "Mistress Bonesy gives gifts!"

Eyeing the bag suspiciously, Harry moved over to it, trying to keep an eye on the humming house-elf as he drew his wand and prodded the backpack. "What's in it?" he asked slowly.

"Mistress Bonesy not tell Kronk," the house-elf confessed as she shook her head wildly, staggering as she made herself dizzy and knocking the plates off the bench again. "Mister Harry Potter! That was naughty!" Kronk exclaimed, shaking her head again and frowning at him, "Don't worry though, Kronk fix".

Taking a moment to stare at the house-elf in a mixture of amusement and annoyance, Harry shook his head and poked at the bag again, reaching out to unzip (Wizards knew about zips?) it and open it further with his wand. When nothing popped out, he felt himself relaxed, glancing up at Kronk who was trying to subtly peer into the bag from over on the bench.

"You can stand on the table if you want," he offered slowly, earning an affronted look for his trouble.

"Kronk? Stand on the _table_?" the house-elf blurted, looking absolutely disgusted, "Kronk could _never_ stand on the _table_. Mister Harry Potter _eats_ on that!"

"Up to you," Harry muttered, watching as the house-elf jumped off the bench and pulled out a chair for her to stand on beside him. "Weird creature".

"Tiny wizard".

Head snapping around to stare at the innocent-looking Kronk, Harry waited a moment before turning back to the bag and pulling it closer to the two of them. "Huh… _'The Auror's Guide to Defensive Magic'_ ," he read aloud as he pulled out the first book on top of the pile, setting it to the side and pulling around a large selection of books on defensive magic. "Why did your Mistress give me books on defensive magic? I thought I wasn't supposed to use magic outside of school?" he questioned the house-elf, disregarding the fact that she'd given him permission if he was attacked, because there was a difference between being attacked and practicing new spells.

"Mistress Bonesy not tell Kronk," the house-elf repeated, "She just ordered Kronk to bring bag to Mister Harry Potter immediately".

Letting out a breath as he scanned over the titles of the books, Harry frowned. "It's like she _wants_ me to fight," he murmured before quickly adding "Don't answer that" to Kronk as the house-elf opened her mouth.

It made sense to him, actually. Even if the Ministry publically denied Voldemort's return, it had felt like Madam Bones had believed him yesterday. This was just her way of trying to help.

A surge of… _something_ … washed through his chest at the thought. Ron and Hermione had abandoned him, the wizarding world was hanging him out to dry, and his Godfather was in hiding and unable to help him. Dumbledore had even refused to start training Harry now that Voldemort was back, claiming that he was 'just a child' who needed to 'enjoy his youth while he still had it', because there was _no_ way that the Dark Lord would be at all interested in targeting him. But now this total stranger was helping him in the way his friends and the trusted authority figures (to use Hermione's name for them) were supposed to, and damn if that didn't make Harry feel… kind of angry actually.

Where the hell _were_ his friends? Surely they'd heard about the dementor attack, there had already been an article in the _Daily Prophet_ about him 'flaunting the rules' by using magic in the presence of a muggle, so it wasn't like it was being kept all hush hush. Why did Madam Bones have to be the one to help him when it _should_ have been them?

Shaking his head and setting his jaw angrily, Harry pulled an envelope out of the bag next, curiously glancing over at Kronk who seemed more interested in licking her thumb and wiping away a stain on the table top than the letter he was now unfolding.

" _Mr Potter._

 _The Undersecretary is furious that you've escaped prosecution, I'm passing along several tomes on defensive magic that I believe fall within your skill level to learn in case she tries again. Please do try take good care of them as I would like them back when all this is done._

 _The reason I did not deliver these myself is because of Albus Dumbledore, after our meeting yesterday I received a letter from him requesting I stay away from you. Naturally as I am not one to bow to the demands of meddlesome old men I contacted my agent within Dumbledore's little 'Order of the Phoenix' and learned that he has placed guards outside your home to watch your every movement. You'll find a copy of my notes about this Order hidden within the_ Auror's Guide _, please burn them (non-magically) once you have finished reading them._

 _Finally, I have requested that Kronk keep an ear out for you. Should you need to pass a message along to me merely call his name and he will deliver it for you as we cannot trust conventional means of communication._

 _I will be in touch._

 _Madam Amelia Bones"._

Shoving the letter back into the envelope which he then stuck back into the back, Harry searched for the information on the so-called Order of the Phoenix, remembering with a wince when Dumbledore had asked Sirius last year to contact the 'old crowd'. He must have been referring to the Order, already moving to gather everyone together after Voldemort's return and Fudge's consequent refusal, already moving to lock Harry out.

Ignoring Kronk as the house-elf lost the fight with himself and gave into his (according to the letter at least) urge to clean, Harry dove into Madam Bones' notes, feeling his face heating up in anger as he read more and more. When he'd finished, he sat back in his chair and tried to push down the spark tingling in his fingertips, not wanting to accidentally burn the house down because he lost his temper.

Scrunching the notes up in his fist as he lurched up to his feet, Harry muttered out a farewell to the house-elf as he hurried upstairs, feeling liquid fire beginning to move through his veins with every pump of his heart. His breath coming shorter as he bypassed his room entirely, he burst into the bathroom and threw the sheets of parchment into the bathtub, standing there silently for just a moment before the weak hold he had on his anger snapped and he was letting out a roar as he snapped his fingers and whipped his hand across his body furiously.

The fiery explosion followed the curve of the bathtub, curling in on itself as Harry panted, licking at the shower curtains he hadn't bothered to remove.

He couldn't believe it. Dumbledore was the head of an organisation _dedicated_ to fighting Voldemort and he hadn't told Harry about it? Shouldn't Harry, as the _only_ person besides Dumbledore to have duelled Voldemort and survived, have been told about the Order of the Phoenix? And what about the 'safe house' that the notes had mentioned them having? Why was Harry stuck here at number Four where he could be attacked by dementors at any time when the Order had a secure safe house set up?

He felt betrayed, no worse, he felt ostracized from their little 'Order'. How could they bring Hermione and the Weasley's there but leave _him_ all alone?

Blinking as the shower curtain went up in flames suddenly, Harry snapped out of it and quickly tore it down, dumping the melting plastic into the tub and washing the harmless substance off his hands without even a wince.

He didn't know whose side Dumbledore was on, but he was starting to get a clear picture.

* * *

 **IGNITION**

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 **Okay so would everyone please remember before complaining about Harry's depression over being abandoned that he's kind of right? The only difference from canon in their behaviours so far is that they owl-napped Hedwig, other than that everything else is true! Also I hope you like Kronk the Sassy House-Elf because he** _ **will**_ **be making a reappearance.**

 **Thank you to everyone who reviewed, and I don't own Harry Potter.**

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 **IGNITION**


	6. Guards

_Snap._

 _Whoosh._

 _Snap._

 _Whoosh._

 _Snap._

 _Whoosh._

 _Snap._

 _Crash._

Jerking up in bed, Harry sat frozen with one hand cradled to his chest, ears straining to hear anything over the handful of fire he held in his palm.

Curling his fingers around the fire to put it out, Harry slowly lowered his feet to the floor and stood, creeping on ratty sneakers over to his door where he pressed his ear against the wood nervously. If he held his breath and tilted his head just right, he could hear the quiet murmurs of the intruders below drifting up the stairs, the intruders not bothering to keep quiet.

But were they the bad guys or the good guys? And were there even any good guys in this fight? Or had it really been narrowed down to Death Eaters, Order of the Phoenix, and then Harry all on his own _already_?

Snapping out of it when he heard the creaking of the first step, Harry hurried across his room and snapped his fingers, conjuring a palm-full of softly crackling flames in each hand.

Wait... no.

Clenching his hands into fists around the fires he instead grabbed his wand, diving for his trunk. The intruders wouldn't be expecting him to be able allowed or willing to use magic to defend himself so willingly. And while they _definitely_ wouldn't be expecting him to hurl fireballs across the room at them, he'd rather save that for when he absolutely needed it; like when they had him surrounded or hit him with a disarming charm.

Smirking as he heard someone tripping over the top stair (the top stair was higher than the others for some reason), Harry didn't even need to think about it as he turned and vaulted out the window, the breath bursting from his lungs as he landed and fell forward onto his chest. Hey, he'd managed to land the jump from the staircase into the hallway without issues, so what if he just assumed he could do it again?

Picking himself up and shuffle-jogging around the house towards the unlocked backdoor, Harry tightened his grip on his wand as he threw his invisibility cloak over his head and re-entered the house. Surely they knew he wasn't in his room by now right? Unless they didn't know which room was his... but that wasn't so likely since they probably watched the house to make sure that no one else would be home at this time.

Slipping in the backdoor and keeping an eye out for any guards, Harry waited in the kitchen. He knew what he _needed_ to do, but there was a difference between knowing and actually doing. And he wasn't so sure that he was ready to kill if he had to, Professor Quirrell aside he'd never even thought about killing someone before. Seriously thought about it at least, he'd entertained the thought of going after Pettigrew and feeding him to Crookshanks, but the thought of _actually_ killing someone made him feel sick to his stomach.

But could he do it?

Almost instantly the answer came to him. Yes, yes he could. They would be trying to kill him; it was the least he could do to return the favour. He wasn't going to sit back and let them kill other people to get to him, Cedric had already been murdered, he refused to let anyone else die because he couldn't or wouldn't stand up for himself.

Starting forward again, Harry moved up the stairs, wand at the ready as he carefully dodged all three of the creaking stairs and stepped over the top one.

And there they were, eight or nine silhouettes all loitering around the door to his bedroom, peering into the room. Sneaking down the hall with an ease born of practice, Harry chose his target and lunged, wand digging into the neck of the slim small woman standing at the rear of the group as he wrapped his arm around her to latch onto her far arm.

"Drop your wands, now," he declared to the stunned intruders, the tip of his wand glowing brightly where it was pressed against the woman's skin.

"Not bad, boy," said a low growling voice in response, "Didn't even hear you leave".

"Harry?" another familiar voice questioned, making him blink in shock as someone hit the light-switch and flooded the hallway with light.

"Professor Moody," Harry greeted coldly, "Professor Lupin".

"Don't know much 'bout 'Professor'," Moody muttered unhappily as he pushed past a pink-haired woman to stand at the front of the group. "Never got 'round to much teaching, now did I?"

Harry didn't even twitch at the sight of Professors Moody and Lupin in the group. And he had a very valid reason to be suspicious after all, he'd spent the last year at Hogwarts being taught by a man wearing Moody's face, with no one the wiser to the fact it was an imposter. But more importantly, an imposter that had tried to _kill_ Harry before being unmasked – In his own humble experience he had more than enough of a reason to be suspicious and downright untrusting.

"It's alright, Harry, we're here to take you away," Lupin assured him, joining Moody at the front of the group, almost moving closer until Harry's wand jerked into the woman's neck hard enough to make her whimper.

"Oh I bet you are," Harry agreed sarcastically, "Right off to your Dark Lord?"

" _Harry_!" the violet-haired woman scolded.

"Hush Nymphadora," Moody snapped, "The boy's right, we could be anyone. Good thinking there, kid. Go on, ask me a question. Prove it's me".

"I don't think I know you well enough to tell if you're lying to me," Harry countered, his mind racing as he took a step back, dragging the woman back with him and hiding his grimace as his invisibility cloak caught on his sneaker.

" _Harry_!"

"He told you to hush, Nymphadora," Harry reminded cheerfully, watching with a smirk as the woman glared at him as her hair turned red. Big deal, he'd turned his teacher's hair blue when he was younger, although 'Nymphadora' won points for the whole red = Gryffindor thing.

"Mr friends called me 'Moony' back at Hogwarts," Lupin piped up, shooting Nymphadora a warning look as the red-haired woman glared. "It's really us".

"He also called Pettigrew 'Wormtail'," Harry argued, eyes narrowing as Moody's hand started casually drifting towards his opposite sleeve. "And _my_ friends say I have the eyes of a hawk, Moody, so drop _both_ of your wands _now_ ".

As Moody started and stared at him in shock, Harry just grinned, "I'm the youngest Seeker in a century for a reason you know," he pointed out as the battle-scarred man set both his wands on the ground. "The only game I ever lost was because of the dementors that swarmed the pitch to try kiss me".

"Which you came to me to learn how to get rid of," Lupin added quickly.

Lucky guess.

"I had a grindylow in my office the first time you visited me there?" Lupin continued hopefully when Harry just stared at them, "We used to talk about the wizarding world while we were catching our breath after banishing the boggart back into the trunk. We talked about how it felt to be a half-blood being introduced to magic for the first time

Okay, so maybe that one was a little more than just luck.

"We're here to take you away," Lupin repeated with a tired smile, apparently seeing Harry's acceptance in his face or something.

"We're here to take _Potter_ away," Moody corrected with a huff, "Some secret it would be if we brought a Death Eater impersonator back to HQ".

"What form does your Patronus take?" Lupin added after Moody turned to stare at him expectantly, clearing his throat loudly.

"A stag".

"It's him, Alastor," Lupin said bluntly, turning a scowl on the scarred man who didn't hesitate to send one back. "Are you satisfied now?"

"It didn't hurt," Moody muttered under his breath, looking anything but.

Slowly pulling his wand away from the woman's neck, Harry shoved her away from him, lowering his wand slightly even if he didn't loosen his grip on it. "Just because I trust that it's really you, doesn't mean I trust _you_ ," he refused bluntly, Lupin blinking at him in shock.

" _Harry_!"

" _Oh my god_!" he exclaimed, turning an annoyed scowl on Nymphadora as he ignored his ex-hostage's glare. "Is that _all_ you're capable of saying? What are you, a parrot animagus?"

"What's a parrot?" a man in the background questioned curiously.

"Harry, we're here to rescue you," Lupin interrupted quickly, "The least you could do is _pretend_ to be polite".

"I haven't cursed any of you yet have I?" Harry deadpanned, raising an eyebrow at Lupin's shocked look. "Oh sorry, did you expect me to _like_ any of you after what you've done to me?" he demanded.

"We're only here to rescue you, Harry," Lupin repeated slowly, looking over at his angry colleagues nervously, "We've done nothing to you".

"You've only what? Been watching me all summer, been intercepting my mail? You _kidnapped_ my _owl_ for Merlin's sake!" Harry shouted, feeling fury bubbling up in his chest. "And I'm supposed to be _grateful_ to your stupid Order of the Phoenix for the way you've been treating me? I'm just supposed to come running like some trained _animal_ when you call, after spending the majority of the summer _alone_?"

"Who told you about the Order?"

Blinking in shock at Moody's growled question, Harry inwardly cursed at his slip, outwardly just raising an eyebrow and smirking at the man. "Wasn't I supposed to know about you lot?" he drawled slowly, "Or were you trying to keep me in the dark about your little vigilante organisation too?"

"Who told you about the Order?" Moody repeated angrily, wooden leg clunking against the floor as he pushed forward, Harry refusing to flinch as he was grabbed by the arm and slammed into the wall, his wand clattering to the ground as his head bounced off the wall.

Almost immediately his inner flame was surging up, bubbling beneath his skin as he ignored Moody's eyes and slowly looked down at the hand squeezing his bicep painfully.

" _Let. Me. Go_ ".

Raising his eyes to stare into Moody's, Harry clenched his jaw furiously as he struggled to keep his flame under his control, feeling it almost _begging_ him to unleash it upon the man who was only digging the Order of Phoenix a bigger hole. Just because he'd given the man a shovel through his taunting, didn't mean Moody needed to use it.

Step 1 – Think angry thoughts until he felt his inner flame waiting under his skin.

Moody's response was to shake him, his head snapping back to hit the wall again as the man repeated his question for the third time.

Seconds later a scream was echoing through the house, Harry's fingers having curled around Moody's offending wrist and tightened, the stench of burning flesh reaching his nose as smoke wafted up away from his hand.

Step 2 – Stop fighting the tingling of his 'spark' and allow it to reach his hands.

Releasing Moody's wrist, Harry shoved the man across the hallway and slammed him into the wall opposite, part of him smug that he'd been too angry by Harry's accidental revelation to remember to pick up his wands.

" _Incindio_ ".

Smiling innocently as gasps echoed across the hallway at the sight of fire bursting into life in the palm of his free hand, Harry held it close enough to Moody's face so the man would feel the burn without actually being burned by it. Both of the man's eyes following the handful of flames Harry was shoving in his face.

Step 3 – Pretend to cast the 'Incindio' charm as he pulled the flames through his skin and into his palm.

And viola, the final product was Moody staring at him in a mixture of rage and fear, and the rest of the Order looking at him in awe. It was really a good thing that he'd had time to practice that ability of his over the past two days, since it had amazing scare potential when used properly, but had quite the embarrassing beginning.

* * *

" _I have to stop thinking about this," Harry was murmuring to himself as he paced his bedroom, ignoring the way his stomach rumbled as he shot covert looks at the parchment on his desk. "They're not going to answer me even if I_ could _get them a letter… traitors"._

 _He needed to relax, if he didn't he'd just lose control of the fire he could feel moving through his veins and burn the house down. Which, while it didn't feel like a bad idea altogether, it wasn't the most logical of ideas to be doing at this time. He needed to relax, to be calm and preferably away from the people he had thought were his best friends yet where conspiring behind his back._

 _Okay… maybe conspiring was too harsh of a word. But they were all in on this 'Order' thing together, and they'd left him in the dark to fight dementors and deal with his fire all on his own. It had taken everything he had to forgive Ron for abandoning him last year, he didn't think he could do it again._

 _Flexing his fingers as the tingling got stronger at that thought, Harry shook both his head and his hands, jumping up and down slightly as he tried to distract himself and calm down. He'd gotten better at controlling his temper over the past two days, it seemed that potentially burning down the street was a good motivator in control, he could already push it down and prevent his powers from escaping his control._

 _Huh… if he could push the fire away could he pull it too?_

 _The answer to that was something along the lines of 'This was a bad idea', as the_ entirety _of Harry burst into flames that coated his whole body in burning hot fire._

* * *

He'd quickly realised that stopping, dropping and rolling did _not_ do anything to put out a Harry-induced fire, and that the only thing he could do was push the fire back beneath his skin once he'd calmed himself down. By that time however, he'd burnt his desk and curtains to a crisp and scorched a large portion of carpet and wall.

Then he'd discovered that while _he_ was immune to fire, his clothing _wasn't_.

So if Harry hadn't figured out that he _needed_ to restrict the 'pulling' of his fire to his palms, then all of the Order members would be getting an eyeful of little Harry. (Not that 'Little Harry' was in any way little… it was just a phrase… shut up).

As far as he was concerned though they didn't need to know about that. (Or that).

"Harry stop! You're already in enough trouble for breaking the Statute!" Lupin pleaded desperately, stepping forward as Harry stared Moody in the eyes.

(Did Moody know that Harry wouldn't hesitate to incinerate him if he thought Moody was a threat? The look in his eyes seemed to indicate he did)

"The Ministry can't detect wandless magic, I've been doing this since the dementors attacked after _you abandoned me_ ," Harry dismissed bluntly, already knowing that he was in _no_ trouble at all for the dementor attack.

"We didn't aban – you used wandless magic on the dementors?" Lupin blurted, changing track halfway through his denial. "But the only fire spell capable of even _harming_ dementors is Fiendfyre! And you're being summoned to a trial for casting the Patronus!"

If Harry had felt any respect or awe for the Order of the Phoenix – which he didn't, by the way – then it would have taken a steep dive as Lupin revealed exactly how out of date their information was. They _had_ abandoned him that night, whether they wanted to admit it or not, he was supposed to have a guard but they never showed up and left the dementors to him and his useless cousin. Not only that, but Harry _hadn't_ cast the Patronus, Madam Bones had known that before even showing up at Number Four the other day, and she'd also assured him that he didn't have a trial either.

"No, I'm not".

Lupin blinked, "Yes you are," he corrected.

"No, I'm not," Harry repeated, stepping away from Moody but not dismissing the 'fireball' as he scooped up his wand again. "I'm not, really, I don't know what you're talking about," he lied to Lupin's face, unable (and unwilling) to stop himself from taking petty revenge against the man he'd trusted.

"Dumbledore ordered us to collect you!" the woman he'd held hostage exclaimed.

"I don't care," Harry confessed bluntly, "I don't trust him, and I don't trust you".

" _Harry_!" Nymphadora hissed, freezing seconds later and murmuring out a "Never mind," as her red hair turned electric blue.

"I'm not going with you," Harry said pre-emptively, shoving past everyone to get into his room, refusing to just fall back into line when Dumbledore whistled for him like some obedient pup.

"Harry listen!" Lupin blurted, catching his bedroom door as Harry tried to slam it shut. "We're taking you somewhere safe. We – the Order of the Phoenix – have set up Headquarters somewhere safe, somewhere that no one will _ever_ find us. It took a while to get everything right though, and we're finally ready for you to join us".

"But you were ready for Hermione and the Weasleys weeks ago right?" Harry shot back, spinning around and glaring at Lupin as the other 'guests' peered in through the door at them.

"What happened here?" Lupin just breathed out, staring past Harry at the burned furniture and walls.

"Fire magic is rather difficult to direct without a wand," he answered curtly.

Lupin gaped for a moment before shaking it off. "We're only trying to keep you safe, Harry".

"I think I've been doing a pretty good job of that on my own, thank you," Harry muttered coldly, "And my version of 'safe' doesn't involve me being attacked by dementors because my guard took a nap".

"Actually he went to Knockturn Alley to buy stolen property," the old man outside corrected, all of them scowling at some kind of memory. "I mean, er".

"You really are useless, aren't you?" Harry asked slowly, looking between the awkward witches and wizards slowly.

He really _was_ better off on his own, it seemed, if the Order consorted with thieves and dark creatures.

"Sirius will be there?" Lupin offered hopefully, answering Harry's question for him.

Oh Merlin… had he _really_ been that naïve that he would have just gone along with them before his little awakening? He really needed to keep up his suspicious double-thinking of everything if he was about as smart as Dudley without it.

Watching Nymphadora suspiciously as she slipped into the room and started inspecting herself in his mirror, Harry just shook his head at Lupin. "Give him my love, but that doesn't mean I'm going with you".

Starting slightly as Nymphadora's hair turned from a dull violet to a bubble-gum pink with a shake of her head, Harry watched as she breathed heavily on the mirror before writing something on it, pretending to be inspecting her eyes. Ignoring Lupin's attempts at convincing him to go with them, Harry focused on the chicken-scratch writing and stiffened slightly when he realised exactly what it said, Nymphadora wiping it away with her hand moments later.

 _KNORK_.

 _Kronk_.

"If I go with you," Harry interrupted, "I expect answers".

"Of course," Lupin agreed immediately, "But it's not safe to talk here".

Harry stared at him for a moment, glancing past him at the gathered witches and wizards outside before allowing his eyes to flick over to Nymphadora, who merely winked at him in the mirror.

"What are we still doing here then?"

* * *

 **IGNITION**

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 **What is this madness, you're no doubt wondering? This chapter seems longer than the previous ones! And you're right! In fact, my little plot-schedule-thing seems to imply that this chapter is only HALF of what it was supposed to be. I had been trying to write longer chapters anyway (as seen by last chapter's modest twenty-eight hundred words), but if I'd finished the entire layout for this chapter then I might have even reached 5k!**

 ***coughs* Anyway. Harry's revealed his true feelings towards the Order of the Phoenix, more so than even he planned on doing, and it turns out that Harry's powers are only growing in both strength and finesse. (Sorry folks, no naked Harry for you… yet… maybe). Next chapter he meets up with his so-called friends, rescues his Hedwig-in-distress, and has a few harsh words to say to a certain Weasley Matriarch.**

 **Thank you to everyone who reviewed – last chapter pushed me over 100 for this story – and remember that I don't own Harry Potter.**

 **(That awesome moment when your story is added to a community you've been following since you first STARTED fanfiction!)**

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 **IGNITION**


	7. Arguments

"Keep your eyes on the road. Both of them".

Ignoring Moody's low growl, Harry tightened his grip on the strap across his chest, pulling 'sling' backpack that Madam Bones had given him tighter against his back as Tonks threw his broom over her shoulder with her own and cancelled her disillusionment charm with a gentle tap on the shoulder.

He could feel the ex-auror's eyes burning into his back as he followed Lupin out of the grassy park they'd landed in, imagining he could hear the hissing of the steam bursting from the scarred man's ears. He couldn't believe that Moody actually expected him to allow him to search through his things before going to 'HQ', and while it was a good thing to know that Madam Bones' gift was immune to Moody's magical eye, it still pissed him off that Moody had the guts to demand he hand it over.

It didn't matter how paranoid the man was, Harry's secrets were Harry's secrets, and he wouldn't hesitate to incinerate anyone who tried to force him to share them.

And on the topic of secrets, Harry was rather disappointed in the Order of the Phoenix's secret. The street looked like somewhere he imagined Dudley living in once his cousin left his parent's home, there were broken windows and bottles littering the sidewalk, the paint on the townhouses was chipped and peeling and the gardens were miniature jungles just waiting for the unsuspecting traveller to pass through them.

"Where are we?" he asked slowly, silently hoping that this was just another of paranoid Moody's 'stop and walk three blocks before taking off to avoid being followed' tactics.

"Quiet," Moody snapped from behind him, the pegged man shoving past Harry in a way that made him instinctively pat down his pockets. (Dudley may have been a fat graceless lump, but he could pickpocket like the best of them). "Follow us, Potter".

Resisting the petty – and frankly childish – urge to argue with Moody for the sake of it, Harry stuck close to Tonks and Lupin as they headed down the street, his hand slipping up behind his back to touch his bag reassuringly. The silence on the street (other than the sounds of Moody's peg leg) allowed Harry to remember the dilemma he'd realised on the flight over.

What was he going to do when put face to face with Ron and Hermione?

The fire in his chest raged at the thought of meeting them so soon, so he knew that he wasn't ready to just forget and forgive, not that he believed he'd be capable of such a thing in the first place. Ron was already on his second chance so the red-head would be lucky if Harry didn't punch him out, but what about Hermione? The only real problems he had with her were his Firebolt in third year – which she had explained and he'd understood, leaving him to realise she was right – and the way she constantly looked down on his smarts.

He wasn't her, he knew he'd never be as intelligent as she was. But he wasn't an idiot, and he didn't appreciate her treating him like one. Merlin, Harry was sure even _Dudley_ of all people would understand that a colour changing charm changed colours. It wasn't rocket science, so why did Hermione find the need to try explain that to both him and Ron?

But that didn't matter right now. What mattered was he didn't know how he'd react when they were finally 'reunited'. As far as he knew he could lose control and burn the safe house down, and for obvious reasons he didn't want that. And he couldn't just avoid them, neither of them would allow him to, they'd hound him until he gave up and told them what was wrong like they always did.

Which meant _he_ would have to confront _them_. He could do that.

(He couldn't do that).

"Here," Moody snapped, turning a glare on Harry as he stopped randomly in the middle of the street. "Read this quickly and memorise," the man growled, pulling a piece of parchment from his pocket and shoving it at Harry, yanking his hand away immediately like he couldn't bear touching him.

He recognised the handwriting as Dumbledore's immediately, the cursive letters filling him with an irrational anger as he read _"The Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, London"_.

"Wait till we're inside before you start blurting out our secrets, boy," snarled Moody seconds later, snatching the parchment from his grasp and incinerating it with a scowl. Just when Harry didn't think he could dislike Moody anymore, the ex-auror had to go prove him wrong and start calling him 'boy' like his relatives did.

Reminding himself that he'd promised to play nice for now, Harry turned away from Moody and started looking around, faltering as he watched a cleaner more unbroken house appear between ten and eleven in a shimmer.

 _This_ was the Order's safe house? Harry could practically _feel_ the dark magic radiating from the building. Okay, maybe it was just the air of morbidity and cruelty he could feel, but he imagined that's what dark magic felt like. It's what the graveyard had felt like last year, after all, or he was feeling the hostility between him and Moody simmering. Either way he didn't like it, Harry felt like Privet Drive was safer than this place, especially with the suspicious looks that Moody kept sending him.

Harry wasn't letting his bag out of his sight.

"Come on," Lupin urged, his fingers curling around Harry's arm and starting to lead him towards the building, the silver snake doorknocker shining like it was moving with every step they took. He could probably speak parseltongue to it, if he squinted just right, it looked lifelike enough. With a tap of his wand on the door, Lupin unlocked it and pushed Harry forward with a whispered "In quick. Don't go too far in though, and don't touch _anything_ ".

Stepping into the dark entry hall, he scrunched his nose up against the rotting smell permeating the air, glancing around the derelict looking room in disgust. Ignoring the sounds of the others filing in after him, Harry continued moving into the house, pretending not to hear the sound of an animal skittering through the walls as he reached out to brush his fingers across the dust covering a snake-shaped rickety table.

Part of him wanted to conjure a fireball to light up the room around him, but it would be difficult for him to explain why he could use the Incindio charm wandlessly but not Lumos. Besides, it was for the best that he didn't offer the Order the opportunity to ask him questions about his new 'skill' that he couldn't answer, he wanted them to forget about his little surprise until he was ready to remind them.

" _Harry_!"

Annoyance flaring through him as he turned to see Mrs Weasley rushing through a door at the far end of the hallway, Harry clenched his jaw and curled his hands into fists.

"It's so lovely to see you!" Mrs Weasley whispered loudly, hurrying towards him and reaching out, only to close her arms around empty air as he ducked beneath her outstretched arm as easily as he dodged a bludger on his broom.

"Don't touch me".

"Harry!" she scolded as she whipped around to scowl at him, "There is no need for that! I'm just trying to say 'Hello'!"

"I know," he admitted, stepping back as she moved forwards.

"It's okay Molly," Lupin interrupted soothingly as Mrs Weasley turned to blink at them, "Harry's… not in the best of moods right now. He feels betrayed by us, that we didn't do anything to bring him here sooner, and I guess from his point of view he's correct".

"Oh Harry," Mrs Weasley exhaled sadly, turning a sympathetic look on him as Harry's eye twitched behind his glasses. "It's okay, you're allowed to be angry with us," she assured him like he needed her permission, "But I dare say, you look rather peaky, you need a good feeding up".

"My relatives try to starve me," Harry deadpanned bluntly, making everyone in the hallway freeze immediately.

"Right th- well," Mrs Weasley stuttered out as he crossed his arms, "You'll need to wait for dinner, I'm afraid," she apologised awkwardly. "Albus has just arrived, the meeting's started," she added, turning away from him quickly and turning to the rest of the Order.

As the Order made noises of interest and started filing past them, Harry hid his smirk when he noticed the way none of them (except Moody who was glaring) were meeting his eyes as they hurried to get away from him.

"Oh no!" Mrs Weasley blurted as he turned to follow them, reaching out to stop him but faltering mid-gesture. "No, Harry, the meeting's only for members of the Order. Ron and Hermione are upstairs, you can wait with them until the meeting's over," she explained in a rush.

"No".

Ignoring her shocked spluttering Harry side-stepped her hand and started down the hallway, raising a challenging eyebrow at Tonks as she stood in the doorway, the shapeshifter ('Metamorphmagus', she had said before) merely looking amused as she stepped further into the room and let him in.

"Harry!"

What was it with people and shouting his name like that today?

Struggling to stop his face from breaking into a smile at the sight of Sirius, Harry made a beeline towards him and allowed himself to be pulled into a tight hug, the escaped prisoner holding him so tightly he feared his ribs might crack under the pressure.

"If this sickening display of sentimentality is done," a familiar voice drawled slowly, "Then perhaps you should go upstairs to join your fellow Gryffindors".

"Bite me, Snivellus," Sirius snapped, withdrawing only one arm from Harry that he used to flip off the Potions Professor.

"I'm sure such behaviour is more to be expected from you, Black, considering your flea-ridden state," Snape snarled back, for a moment looking just as feral as he had back in the Shrieking Shack in third year.

"Gentlemen," another voice interrupted, Harry stiffening as the Headmaster continued, "Perhaps this argument is one better shelved until you are ready to forgive each other? I do believe Harry should be joining his friends upstairs, after all".

"No thanks," Harry denied, finally pulling away from Sirius and promptly stealing the man's chair. "I think I'm good here".

Dumbledore didn't look at him, his eyes drifting over the entering members of the Order instead. "Now now, my boy, this meeting will be dreadfully boring I'm afraid, nothing to worry yourself about".

"Oh?" Sirius asked, perking up behind Harry as he reached out to rest his hand on the young wizard's shoulder, "So it's nothing to do with the whole 'Don't tell Harry more than he needs to know' rubbish you've been spouting?"

Dumbledore, curse him, didn't even flinch at Sirius' accusation even as Harry's fists clenched and tingled. "This is a serious matter, Sirius, you know that. One better suited for _adults_ than for children".

"If that's the case," Snape sneered out, almost blending into the dark corner behind him with his equally as dark robes, "Then Black should join the boy upstairs".

"Hands up if you've fought Voldemort and won?" Harry cut in as he felt Sirius breathing in to continue his earlier argument. "Anyone?" he asked as he raised his own hand, looking around the room at the awkwardly shifting Order members until his eyes had returned to staring at Dumbledore who was finally looking at him with a sad expression, "That's what I thought".

"Harry," Dumbledore began slowly (and what right did _he_ have to sound so disappointed?), "You're just a child, you need to enjoy your childhood, not waste it fighting a war you have no part in".

"If you wanted me to enjoy my childhood, _Sir_ , then perhaps you should have placed me with a family that wouldn't verbally, emotionally and physically abuse me," argued Harry without hesitation, "Only the other day my Uncle admitted that he'd wanted to drown me when you _left me on the doorstep in the middle of the night_ ".

"I'm sure he didn't mean that," Dumbledore dismissed, "Sometimes people say things they do not mean when they are angry".

"He put bars on my window".

"I'm sure it didn't mean what you believe it did," Dumbledore claimed, waving a hand as if to clear the air.

"He put _bars_ on my _window_ ," Harry repeated slowly, unable to prevent the growl to his voice as he stood up and rested his hands on the table as the faint smell of smoke reached his nose. "He put locks on the _outside_ of my door, and fed me through a _cat flap_. Do you really think I misinterpreted that?"

A wave of mumbles rolled throughout the room, Dumbledore suddenly seeming extremely interested in the grains of wood in the table they were all gathered around.

"Now. I'm offering to help the Order," Harry continued, not wanting to hear whatever pathetic excuse Dumbledore had up his sleeve, "But I expect that to be a two-way street. No more spying of me, no more treating me like some kid-"

Snape's loud scoff cut Harry off, the man pushing roughly past a bird-like woman to sneer at him from across the table. "I don't know why you think you deserve to be involved, Potter," he drawled, practically spitting out his name, "The Order has no need for arrogant braggarts with delusions of grandeur".

Harry paused, blinking. "What are you still doing here then?" he asked before he could stop himself.

" _Professor_ Snape is here as a spy for the Order, at great risk to himself," Dumbledore jumped in, defending Snape where he wouldn't Harry. "I ask you show him a patience you normally would not".

"Oh I'm patient," Harry corrected, meeting Snape's glare head-on with his own, "I've never once complained about the way I'm being bullied and harassed by a 'Professor', I've never once acted the way he claims I do, and I've never once spoken out against getting detention for a _week_ for _breathing too loudly_ ".

"Now I'm sure-" " _Is that true Severus?_ "

Jumping as Professor McGonagall's sharp voice interrupted Dumbledore's mindless defence, Harry turned to see his Head of House leaning forward and fixing Snape with a look that reminded Harry of Crookshanks when the cat was hunting a toy. "You assured me that each punishment was one hundred percent justified".

"They are," Snape lied without hesitation, "Potter is merely lying for sympathy".

"Prove it," Harry countered smugly as he smirked, "I'm willing to provide memories if you are".

Snape's glare darkened tenfold, making Harry's smirk grow by the same.

"Enough!" Dumbledore exclaimed loudly, "This is neither the time nor the place for fighting between ourselves! The real enemy here is Voldemort and his Death Eaters, not each other".

"Snape _is_ a Death Eater," Sirius interrupted.

"We can discuss Harry's accusations at a later date when it is more appropriate," Dumbledore continued, pretending not to have heard Sirius' comment.

"From now on, Severus, I'll be watching you _very_ closely," McGonagall threatened bluntly, settling back into her chair with a more than dangerous glare of her own.

"Does the Order of the Phoenix fight Voldemort?" Harry asked before Dumbledore could take back control. When people around the room nodded and mumbled agreements he nodded back to them, "So why can't I join? I have more experience fighting him than any of you, I've _killed_ him _twice_ , and he's after me because of it".

"Harry? Do you trust me to protect you?" Dumbledore asked simply, his tone of voice as he cleaned his glasses confident in what he seemed sure the answer would be.

"How can you ask me that?" Harry countered, "Of course _not_!"

Watching as the old man jolted and stared up at him in shock, Harry shook his head. "You lied to me and spied on me and had me followed. You kept secrets from me and left me in a house filled with people who hate me while you brought my friends here. You've done nothing to prove that Voldemort has returned, and you're actively _preventing_ people from finding out the truth by telling them to stay away from me!" he shouted, hesitating for a moment as he realised that sometime during his answer he'd jumped to his feet and began yelling. "You forced me to compete in a Tournament that I almost _died_ in, promising me that you were 'doing all you could' to get me out without even realising that the man you trusted so much wasn't really him! You're making excuses for Snape's behaviour and defending him because you 'trust him', and you're telling me that my relatives _love me_ and that the past fourteen years of abuse have been nothing but a figment of my imagination! Oh! And you stole my owl!"

"Right now I trust Voldemort more than you," he confessed bluntly, ignoring the gasps of shock from around the room, "At least I know he wants me dead. I can trust his motives, not yours".

"Harry…"

Dumbledore cut himself off, still staring at Harry in a mixture of shock and hurt as if he was surprised by Harry's reasoning. "Surely… surely you don't mean…"

"That I'm giving you one last chance to earn my forgiveness?" Harry finished for him, "Yeah, I do. You let me into the Order, or I'll never be able to trust you again".

Dumbledore didn't answer, sky blue eyes merely dropping to the table before him.

His breath escaping his lungs slowly, Harry's shoulders dropped slightly and he turned away from the table. "Where's my room, Sirius?" he asked his godfather quietly, pretending not to see the look in the dog animagus' eyes.

"You're rooming with Ron upstairs, Harry," Mrs Weasley piped up coldly.

Sirius just smiled at him gently, reaching out to throw his arm over his shoulders and pulling him close. "I cleaned out the room next to mine for you weeks ago, it's been waiting for you," he offered Harry simply.

"That's not necessary, Sirius," Mrs Weasley argued, "He's sleeping with his best friend".

"Yeah I am, the moment I find out where you locked Hedwig up," Harry confirmed, turning a glare on the red-headed woman who was glaring building up to an explosion.

"Come on, kiddo," Sirius suggested, "Let's go get her, we'll have dinner in your room and catch up".

Letting Sirius lead him towards the door, the tension in the room so thick it could have been cut with a blunt spoon, Harry realised something and stopped in the doorway. Looking back at Dumbledore, who had been watching his retreating back, he met his eyes so the Headmaster would know he was being deathly serious.

"If I'm not part of the Order, then I'm not part of the War".

* * *

 **IGNITION**

* * *

 **I'll say it now, I believe Snape is a Good man in that he is on the side of Good, not that he is in anyway a Good man as in is actually Good. He's abusive, cruel, a murderer on more than one occasion, and will be a** _ **very**_ **lucky man if he survives this story. In addition, I'm trying to avoid the cliché Dumbledore is evil trope.**

 **I admit it, this chapter is barely three thousand words, but I didn't want to stretch it on any further and include his confrontation with Ron and Hermione because I don't think I'll be able to keep that to less than a thousand words.**

 **Thank you to everyone who reviewed and enjoyed Christmas! Remember that I don't own Harry Potter.**

* * *

 **IGNITION**


	8. Excuses

"Come on, Harry, this way".

Following his godfather up the stairs, the black-haired boy tugged his hands back into the sleeves of his thin jacket, curling them into fists as he fought to calm himself down.

He couldn't believe Dumbledore. Were his precious secrets more important than Harry himself? Did he believe that his position as Harry's Headmaster meant he could control every aspect of Harry's life like some kind of puppet master? Part of Harry couldn't wait for Dumbledore and the Order to turn around and give him a command, just so he could throw it back into their faces and walk away – and he knew it would happen, he knew that neither Dumbledore nor the Order believed the ultimatum that had fallen from his lips out of nowhere.

He may not have _meant_ to say it, but he did, and he didn't regret a single word.

As he rounded a corner of the staircase to head up another floor, Harry blinked in confusion and glanced over the banister. "How many floors are there to this place?" he asked curiously, looking up at his godfather's back.

"Four," Sirius said over his shoulder, "And five on weekends. Merlin I hate this place," he added under his breath, Harry almost thinking he'd imagined hearing it.

"It doesn't seem _that_ bad," he lied casually, feeling the anger inside him shift to focus on his godfather at the sound of his voice.

A barked laugh echoed through the stairwell as Sirius slowed to a stop, waiting for Harry to catch up with him. "It's worse than it looks," he said bluntly, "I hated growing up in this place, there was always something bad around every corner. Wait till you meet my mother," he added with a dramatic shudder, "You'll swear off women for the rest of your life".

"This is your house?" Harry questioned, unconsciously leaning against his godfather when Sirius threw his arm over his shoulders again.

"Unfortunately," Sirius agreed as they stepped off onto a landing and started down a hallway. "I loaned it to Albus to use as Headquarters, about the only useful thing I've been able to do," he explained coldly. "Only useful thing besides pranking the hell out of Albus at least, I promised to tone it down, but if he's not going to keep his promises to me then why should I to him you know?"

"You don't have to explain yourself, Sirius," Harry promised him quickly, "I wanted to hit him so badly back there," he confessed as he glanced down at his fists, raising them to show small bloody marks in the shape of fingernails in his palms.

"I wouldn't have stopped you," Sirius deadpanned cheerfully, coming to a stop and turning to face Harry properly. "I just... I want you to know that I'm proud of you, alright?" he asked as he rested his hands on Harry's shoulders, "You could have snapped and hit all of them and no one could have blamed you for it. But you didn't," he continued. "You managed to control your temper and you stared Dumbledore down instead of knocking him out. That's something I could never do".

Letting out a sharp breath, Sirius shook his head, Harry hanging onto every word he said with an embarrassing eagerness. "Merlin," Sirius breathed out slowly, smiling faintly as he stared down at Harry yet saw something else. "You reminded me so much of your mother back in there. She had a temper that woman," he explained, clearly lost in his memories by the look in his eyes, "I remember one time when James pissed her off in Hogsmeade, Death Eaters apparated into the middle of her screaming at him". His godfather stopped and shuddered again, shaking his head as he eyed Harry cautiously, "She channelled all of her anger into tearing the Death Eaters apart with James by her side, the two of them saved so many lives that day".

"I'm pretty sure that's what made your mother give James a shot too," he added with a sly grin, "He had the worst game I've ever seen".

He couldn't help but grin back at Sirius, forgetting for just a moment everything that had happened to him in the past year or so as they two of them just basked in each other's presence.

A door slamming downstairs made them both jump, turning away from each other awkwardly to glance towards the staircase. "Come on, kid, Hedwig's in here," Sirius said softly, keeping his voice low to give them some more time to themselves.

Stiffening when he reached for the snake-themed door handle only to find it locked, Harry's jaw clenched and he turned his head to shoot Sirius a look. When his godfather just smiled sadly at him and shrugged, patting down his pockets to show he had no wand, Harry turned back to the door and tapped into the agitated spark in his chest and carefully directed it down into his hand. He needed to be careful, if he wasn't then he could accidentally incinerate the door _and_ Hedwig waiting beyond it, all he needed was _just_ the right amount of heat and he was in.

Now if only Harry knew how much heat that _was_.

"Harry? What are you-"

Sirius cut himself off as Harry released the melted slop of a handle and launched himself at the door, tucking his shoulder as he slammed into it. He only had a moment to smirk victoriously at it flew open before he was freezing, an angry snarl tearing from his lips as his hand snapped out, his fingers snapping and his spark flaring as a handful of fire flew from his palm. Stalking forward, Harry kicked out at the charred body of the Cornish pixie lying on the floor, fighting the urge to run back downstairs and incinerate Dumbledore beard because...

Because Hedwig…

Melting the lock again as his first (and currently only) friend hooted weakly at him, Harry tore open the cage and reached in for the snowy owl.

"Harry? What was that?"

"Wandless magic," came his curt response, his arms trembling in time with Hedwig as he cradled her to his chest, glaring dangerously around at the pixies that were peering out of the curtains around them.

Sirius scoffed from the doorway, "Don't lie to me, kid. I know what wandless magic is, and _that_ wasn't it," he argued as he moved into the room. "That was a fourth year spell at the very le- oh".

Nodding stiffly as he cradled Hedwig gently, Harry just stroked his fingers down her feathers gently, fighting to keep his flame down as he realised that she'd lost more weight than he first thought if the lightness in his arms was any indication. Glancing down at the floor where numerous blood-spotted white feathers lay, he turned away from the Cornish pixies and shifted Hedwig around in his arms to make her more comfortable, his familiar shaking as she nuzzled closer.

"Your room is at the end of the hallway by the stairs," Sirius whispered, sounding just as pained as Harry felt, "You'll know which one it is. I'll go get your trunk from Ron's room, and... and some supplies".

As Sirius slipped from the room as stealthily as his animagus form, Harry stayed there stiffly, head turning to stare at the Cornish pixies chittering in the curtains. He could already feel his anger rising as he took in the sight of the cage on the table in the centre of the room, looking for the life of him like Hedwig had been left there to rot without any food or water. The Cornish pixies would have loved it, having a target to harass and hurt that couldn't do a thing against them, for all her ferocity Hedwig was harmless when trapped in such a small cage.

A muffled hoot pulled his attention down to his owl immediately, Harry blinking in shock when he saw he'd removed his hand and conjured a fireball without thinking about it. Shaking his anger away and focusing on Hedwig instead, Harry closed his fist around the fireball and hurried from the room, leaving the handle-less door open behind him as he followed Sirius' directions to a door cheerfully marked as ' _Harry's Room_ '.

Looking around desperately, Harry cursed when he realised there was no bowls or water for Hedwig to drink from. Not wanting to deny his clearly starving owl any further, he just pulled a face as he drew his wand and flicked it twice, first transfiguring a rock statue on the desk into a bowl and filling it with water. Carefully lowering Hedwig down to it, he flinched as she let out a soft cooing noise before drinking, exhaustion flooding him as he moved from fear to fury to fear in a few seconds once more. He would call for Kronk tonight, get him to explain things to Madam Bones so he wasn't expelled for saving his owl's life, but there was no way that Harry was going to let her suffer any longer than he had to.

Letting out the breath in his lungs slowly when Hedwig finally pulled away from the bowl, he didn't hesitate to scoop her up again, kicking the chair out from under the desk and smoothly sitting, curling Hedwig into the crook of his arm. It was almost funny, he realised, to watch the usually proud owl nuzzle herself further into his arms without care for her image. Then he remembered _why_ she was acting like this and his fury rose again, only Hedwig's light weight in his arms stopping him from hunting everyone in the house down and burning them.

Flinching as footsteps thundered up the stairs, Harry's hand fell from the owl's chest to pull his wand from his pocket again, holding it at an angle to immediately start cursing whoever came through the door first.

"Harry?"

Relaxing slightly as Sirius stepped into the doorway with a large sack of owl feed in his arms, he watched as his godfather set a second bowl down on the desk and started filling it without another word.

"Who?"

Halfway through clamping the mouth of the bag shut with a clamp Sirius froze, Harry watching from the corner of his eye as his godfather slowly set the bag down beside the desk, straightening up to watch Hedwig greedily dive for the pellets the moment Harry put her down. He hadn't seen her this hungry since second year when Uncle Vernon locked her in her cage, he'd run out of pellets earlier than he'd expected and had been forced to split his own meals with the unhappy owl.

"I don't know," his godfather claimed slowly, Harry biting back on a snort of disbelief. "I only found out she was here by accident. Albus put some kind of charm on the door, I can't open it without the right key and I don't have a good enough wand to try beat that. For what it's worth, Pup," he added, shifting and pulling Harry's eyes to him for just a second, "I don't think Dumbledore would have kept her in there if he knew about this".

This time Harry let out the snort, "For what it's worth, Sirius," he countered slowly, "He left me locked in a house where I was starved and abused, why would he care about an owl?"

Ignoring the look on his godfather's face, Harry shuffled his chair closer to the desk and rested his chin on his hand, the only noises in the room being that of Hedwig eating and Sirius slowly leaving. Unable to stop himself from smiling as the snowy owl stopped eating to turn and watch him curiously, Harry shook his head and reached out to smooth down an errant feather. "It's okay, Hedwig," he promised gently, "It's going to okay".

His smile falling as Hedwig hooted comfortingly and turned back to her long-awaited meal, Harry found himself glaring at the table. He wanted to believe that Dumbledore had done it on purpose, it would make it so much easier to hate the man if the Headmaster had intentionally hurt Hedwig – but he couldn't. Oh, Harry would still hate and blame Dumbledore for what happened to his avian friend, but his gut told him that the Headmaster would never stoop so low as to hurt Hedwig to get to him. And if there was one thing beside Hedwig that he could trust, then it was his gut, it had never failed him like certain 'friends' had.

Setting his wand down on the desk, Harry looked down at his hands, grimacing as he ran his fingers across the palm of his right hand. He'd just killed something, it might have only been a Cornish pixie but they were still sentient beings, and it didn't matter that he'd been protecting Hedwig he still felt a little sick because of it. But that was the difference wasn't it? He'd been protecting someone's (he could never thing of Hedwig as a 'something') life, he hadn't killed the pixie for sport, and he felt guilty over it instead of feeling smug or worse… feeling like he'd enjoyed it. It was like back in first year when he'd killed Quirrell, he'd had to rationalise it to himself when that had happened too. He did it to protect someone, not to kill it.

Quickly crossing his arms when footsteps sounded on the stairs again, Harry tried to act casual as Sirius hurried into the room, lugging Harry's trunk and broomstick after him and a cautious look on his face. "Sorry, kiddo, they're coming," the man blurted the moment he dropped Harry's things, "I couldn't get your stuff without them realising you were here".

Some traitorous part of Harry leapt at the thought of seeing Ron and Hermione again, but all too quickly he felt the anger that had been burning away at him for most of the summer, removing it from the picture. Just like before he felt too angry for words, but at the same time he felt like he wanted them in front of him now so he could speak (well… not speak, shout) his mind and finally get the answers he felt he deserved from them. The problem with that was that he didn't know if he _could_ speak his mind, he'd been brooding on their 'betrayal' of him ever since he'd first noticed it, for all he knew just looking at them would be enough to blow the top off of the volcano – which considering his power was an apt metaphor.

He didn't want them to suffer – okay he totally wanted them to suffer, but only for what they'd done to him. Guilt, sadness, and most likely the loss of one of their strongest friendships were what he wanted for them. Third degree burns however, were not.

And it was that thought that distracted him from what came next, a large amount of very bushy hair materializing in front of him as Hermione's arms locked into a vice grip around his ribcage.

"HARRY! Harry! Oh Ron! He's here, Harry's here! We didn't hear you arrive! Oh, how _are_ you? Are you alright? Have you been – what are you doing?"

As the brunette's babbling cut off, Harry stiffly finished unwrapping her arms from around him and pushed him away, not having felt that awkward since Gilderoy Lockhart had pulled him in front of a whole bookstore to hug him for the camera. It was funny, once Hermione's hugs felt like everything he'd ever craved wrapped up into one, and yet now he couldn't stand to even be _touched_ by her.

"Oh Harry," Hermione blurted, as he glanced past her to see Ron lurking near the doorway, a grin on the redhead's face (That he was _not_ going to punch off, he swore he wasn't). "I know our letters were useless, but we couldn't tell you anything! Dumbledore made us swear we wouldn't, oh, we've got _so_ _much_ to tell you and you've got things to tell us – the dementors! When we heard – and that Ministry hearing – it's just outrageous, I've looked it all up, they can't expel you, they just can't, there's provision in the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery for the use of magic in life-threatening situations-"

"I know," Harry interrupted coldly, stepping away from her as Hermione stepped towards him again, "And I'm not getting expelled, I've dealt with it".

Hermione blinked in confusion, "But Professor Dumbledore said-"

"So that's it then?" Harry cut in, bowling straight over the bookworm's objection, "It's Dumbledore?"

"He leads the Order, Harry," Hermione began hesitantly, her massive intellect finally noticing something was wrong. "He made us swear not to tell you _anything_ ".

"Did he make you swear to kidnap Hedwig too?" Harry snapped before he could stop himself – not that he was willing to in the first place. "Did he make you swear to lock her in a room with Cornish pixies and _starve_ her?"

"Starve her?" Hermione echoed weakly, half-turning to where a horrified-looking Ron had frozen where he about to jump onto Harry's bed.

"I forgot to feed Hedwig," the redhead exhaled guiltily, "Merlin I can't believe I forgot to feed Hedw- _urk_!"

Lowering his fist slowly, Harry glared down at the bleeding boy lying on the ground, having broken his promise of not punching Ron without a care in the world. "Did he tell you to do it?" he demanded as he turned back to the startled Hermione, having bypassed fiery rage straight into some strange kind of cold fury.

"He seemed to think it was for the best".

Hermione's response seemed to only make him angrier, if only because he had thought that she had _known_. Of all the people he had expected this from, Hermione had been the last person on that list, and now as he stood there staring at the determination on her face he found himself mentally swatting himself around the back of his head. Why would he think that Hermione, for all her blind trust in authority figures, would choose him over them?

"He said you were safer with your relatives," Hermione continued, taking his silence as permission to keep talking, "It's why he had people from the Order of the Phoenix tailing you all the time".

"Well that shows how much he knows doesn't it?" Harry spat darkly, raising an eyebrow challengingly as Hermione gasped. "I mean, it's not like my relatives have been abusing me ever since I was dumped on their doorstep is it?" he asked, part of him slightly amused by the way Sirius was sitting in the corner of the room watching them silently. "It's not like I was _attacked by dementors_ at any time was I?"

"He wab angwy doh!" Ron exclaimed, having pushed himself off the floor with a hand clasped over his nose.

"He was!" Hermione agreed quickly as Harry felt a rush of sheer _hatred_ at the boy's voice. "He was scary. We saw him when he found out that Mundungus had left before his shift had ended, he was so furious! All the lights were flickering and _everything_ was shaking!" she explained with a dramatic wave of her arms. "He told Mundungus that you better not have been Kissed or he'd wish _he_ had been, then he told Ron to clean his room to prepare for your arrival since there was no other choice than to bring you here. Then he left for the Ministry to try stop you from being expelled!"

And just like that everything clicked into place, making Harry blink almost owlishly as his fury flooded out of him and left his anger at a gentle shimmer.

"Oh," he said simply.

"Yes!" Hermione confirmed, nodding her head rapidly and making her hair dance around wildly. "He's been in and out of the house ever since, trying to get you a fair trial!"

Turning his head away from Hermione to watch Hedwig, the snowy owl having finished eating and now sitting there glaring darkly in Ron's direction, Harry just shook his head.

"Get out".

"I- what?"

"I said get out," Harry repeated, turning back to face his two former friends. "Get out, now, before I start screaming at you".

He was so tired all of a sudden, he wanted this conversation over so he could go back to caring for Hedwig and then maybe take a nap and – "But Harry! _Dumbledore_ said-"

"DUMBLEDORE SAID DID HE?" Harry roared, all of his anger coming surging back like a tidal wave and washing away his exhaustion. "DUMBLEDORE SAID? OH YES, LET'S ALL GATHER AROUND AND LISTEN TO WHAT _DUMBLEDORE_ HAS TO SAY SHALL WE?"

"Harry," Hermione whimpered.

"WHAT? HARRY WHAT?" he screamed, stalking away from her into the middle of the room and whirling around. "HARRY HE'S THE HEADMASTER? BIG DEAL!" he yelled, slashing his hand down in front of him, "HE'S THE HEADMASTER NOT A BLOODY GOD! HE STUCK ME WITH THE DURSLEYS WHEN HE KNEW HOW THEY TREATED ME! HE DOESN'T GET TO STEAL MY OWL AND TELL MY FRIENDS NOT TO TALK TO ME, HE DOESN'T! AND YOU!" Harry added, jabbing his finger between the tearing Hermione and the offended-looking Ron "YOU WERE MY BEST FRIENDS! YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO HELP ME BUT YOU CHOSE DUMBLEDORE OVER ME!"

"We wanted to tell you, Harry, we really did!" Hermione insisted weakly.

"NO YOU DIDN'T! I WOULD HAVE FOUND A WAY! I WOULD HAVE TAKEN ON A DRAGON FOR YOU TWO AND YOU COULDN'T EVEN WRITE ME A BLOODY LETTER BECAUSE THE _HEADMASTER TOLD YOU NOT TO_! YOU BOTH CHOSE HIM OVER ME AND I HAVE HAD IT!"

Forcibly calming himself down, Harry brutally ignored the tears streaming down Hermione's face as he shot them both a sneer worthy of Snape. "You chose him," he said coldly, purposely keeping his voice down, "Now I'm making my choice, and it's not you".

"You don't mean that, Harry, we're your best mates," Ron blurted dumbly; "We've always got each other's backs don't we?"

"Like you had my back when my name came out of the Goblet of Fire?" Harry drawled, making Ron flinch. "I'll say it one more time, _you_ chose _him_ ," he snapped, spitting out the last three words as if they were poisonous. "And now I'm making my choice, I'm looking out for me now, _only_ me".

Turning away from them, Harry walked back over to Hedwig and gently bopped her on the tip of her beak when she just hooted at him softly, looking at him in a way that said she chose him too. "You should leave now," he said over his shoulder as he smiled down at Hedwig, the owl happily hopping onto his offered arm and nuzzling his hand. " _Now_ ," he repeated when they didn't move, "Because I wouldn't want me to continue shouting if I were you".

Listening as Ron gently guided a sobbing Hermione from the room, Sirius padding over to shut and lock the door behind them, Harry blinked quickly as tears prickled at his own eyes. He felt empty, and he knew it was his fault, that the emptiness was due to him pushing away the only ones there for him – and yet at the same time he felt fulfilled, like he had finally done something his way, that he had finally done something right.

"I'm proud of you kid," Sirius said, words echoing the ones he'd said earlier as he moved over to gently take Harry into his arms. "I think you made the right choice, no matter how hard it was. You deserve better than that".

Leaning against his godfather, all it took was the man saying "And Pup? I choose you" before Harry was turning his face into Sirius' chest and doing something he hadn't done in years.

He cried.

* * *

 **IGNITION**

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 **So this is not how I expected this chapter to go, more of it was spent going over Sirius and Hedwig that dealing with Ron and Hermione, but I think I like it. I didn't think the canon argument was very strong since Harry has already dealt with Dumbledore, but don't worry because this is hardly the only confrontation between the three of them. Right now, Harry's just a little tired - emotionally and physically - so he couldn't put his all into it.**

 **I also want to say "Sorry!" to 'SO-Long-Love', I overreacted and I wish I could say I had had a bad day but there's no excuse. And 'Killy', I'm not sure why you deleted your review since it was a good suggestion, I might try work that quote in later since it's not the most appropriate at the moment.**

 **Thank you to everyone who reviewed and I hope you all have a pleasant 2016! Remember that I don't own Harry Potter.**

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 **IGNITION**


	9. Embraces

"Harry? Harry, wake up".

Grumbling wordlessly as a voice whispered in his ears and a hand shook at his shoulders, Harry swatted away the annoyance in his bed and tried to fall back into the warm sleep he was being so cruelly dragged from.

"Harry, please! Come on kid, it's really important".

Finally cracking his eyes open to scowl at the intruder, Harry's annoyance fled and was replaced with a small smile as he blinked up at his godfather sleepily. "Sirius?" he slurred, pausing to yawn tiredly.

"It's me, Pup, but I really have to pee," the dog animagus said quietly, making Harry frown in confusion before grunting as he was rolled over and off of his godfather, the bed dipping as the man scrambled off it and hurried from the room.

Yawning again and looking around slowly, it took Harry a while to recognise the dark yet clean room as the one Sirius had given him in Grimmauld Place, only the sight of a skinny Hedwig sleeping on the headboard of the bed jogging his memory. He must have fallen asleep last night after his little… outburst… with Sirius, his eyes feeling dry and itchy as he wiped the sleep from them awkwardly. Merlin that was embarrassing if it was true, he couldn't believe he'd broken down and cried like that in front of his godfather, he could only hope that Sirius didn't bring it up that morning.

Climbing out of bed stiffly, Harry looked around for his trunk and found it in the corner, padding over to it and opening it up to grab a new change of clothes. Promising himself a shower later on, he quickly got dressed and checked on the bowls of water and owl feed on the desks by instinct, freezing and glancing over at the still sleeping Hedwig as guilt slammed through him.

If he hadn't sent her to try get information this wouldn't have happened to her, she wouldn't have been starved and tortured by Dumbledore's Order of the Phoenix. And, Harry thought with a smirk, the phoenix was a magical firebird of legend, a creature that symbolized rebirth and freedom. Well so did he, Harry had certainly been reborn through fire after all, and he was proud to say that he would immolate anyone who tried to move in on his new freedom. And the fact that Harry could actually ignite his body like a phoenix could was only an added bonus, even he couldn't deny that he looked cool while doing that.

"You reminded me of your mother last night".

Stiffening and turning to face Remus Lupin, Harry eyed the werewolf standing in the doorway to his bedroom suspiciously, walking over to the desk and throwing his small sling backpack across his back again. "Oh?" he asked casually, pretending not to notice the way Lupin's eyes darted around his room curiously.

"Lily was an amazing person, kind and caring," Lupin explained softly, "Until you got her _really_ mad. She had a temper that woman".

"I know," Harry admitted curtly, "Sirius told me that last night".

Lupin stared at him for a moment before nodding sadly, "I remember one time, we were on a Hogsmeade trip and James accidentally hit her robes with a vanishing charm, leaving her just in her shirt and pants. She was furious, half-way through screaming at him Death Eaters-"

"Apparated into the middle of Hogsmeade for an attack," Harry interrupted, the black-haired boy unimpressed by Lupin's repeated story. "She and my Dad tore them apart, it's what made her give him a chance".

"How?" Lupin began in shock, face falling a couple of seconds later in realization, "Sirius".

"Unlike you, Sirius kept in contact with me after third year," Harry confessed coldly, "We traded letters every week".

As Lupin flinched and looked around for another topic that didn't revolve around his own failures, Harry's hand rose to curl around the strap of his backpack. Hidden inside it was a small satchel he'd originally bought for Hogwarts back in first year, one that could hold an almost infinite amount of notes without getting thick or fat, he'd repurposed it to hold all of his letters from the magical world when he realized that his relatives would do anything they could to hurt him – destroying things from his 'family' included. Now though the satchel only held things like the Hogwarts letter Hagrid had given him, the letters he and Sirius had exchanged, and only _some_ of the letters that he, Ron and Hermione had sent each other over the years. He may have refused to forgive them, but he also refused to forget the good times they had together, he liked to think he was better than that.

"Oh, uh," Lupin began suddenly, "Right. Molly, Mrs Weasley, sent me up to come get you. Breakfast is going to be ready soon and then she wanted you to join the others in the drawing room to help with the cleaning up".

"Harry's already got something planned," Sirius' voice corrected from behind the werewolf, sounding just as cold as Harry's had. "So you can let Molly know that we'll be busy for the rest of the day".

Lupin didn't bother to argue, instead choosing to just nod stiffly and hurry down the hallway without a second look in Harry's direction. As Sirius padded into the room, his godfather took one look at him before scrunching his face up, moving over to pick up Harry's wand before taking aim and flicking it, pulling a startled squeak from Harry's lips as his clothing started moving about on his body.

"I wish I could take you shopping," Sirius mumbled softly, "Get you some proper clothes, maybe even some of the toys your father loved growing up, treat you like you deserve".

"It's fine Sirius, I never really played with toys when I was younger anyway," Harry dismissed honestly, smoothing down his as-new better fitting red shirt with a small smile. "And who cares if these clothes are second hand? You've made them fit, haven't you?"

The former prisoner looked relieved for a moment as he moved over to pull Harry into a one-armed hug, handing his wand over after flicking it over himself and murmuring freshening charms. "Wait? You're using my wand?" he blurted, eyes widening nervously, "And I used it last night, I've got to get to the Ministry and tell Madam Bones that"

"Whoa, Harry! Slow down," Sirius interrupted, latching onto his shoulders and holding him in place. "It's fine," he assured Harry with a gentle smile, "This house is registered to belong to a Pure-Blood family, any magic done here is assumed to be done by a member of House Black. The Ministry can't tell it's you casting the spells so the Trace doesn't work here," he explained, making Harry relax with a sigh of relief. "Now," he continued, hands tightening slightly on Harry's shoulders, "I think we need to have a little chat, don't you?"

As Sirius moved over to shut and lock his bedroom door, Harry mentally kicked himself, approaching the waking Hedwig to carefully carry her over to the desk despite her whispered hoots in protest.

"Harry-"

"I've had a bad couple of months, okay?" the dark-haired fire elemental interrupted quickly. "Merlin, I've had a bad couple of _years_! First I get you and then I lose you almost instantly. Then I'm forced into that stupid Triwizard Tournament, and Ron and the rest of the school turns on me, then at the end I see Cedric Diggory die and Voldemort return! Then as the icing on the cake I'm abandoned by _everybody_ and left at the Dursleys where I'm attacked by dementors, accused of casting a spell I _didn't even cast_ and then I find out that the Order of the Phoenix is a thing and that I'm purposely being left out of the loop!" he ranted in one long breath, Sirius' face expressionless. "Then there was Hedwig, and Ron and Hermione, and I just feel so alone that I just… I just needed a moment".

Seconds later he was being pulled into Sirius' chest, warm arms being wrapped around him gently in a hug. "Do you remember how I said I moved in with your Dad when I was sixteen?" his godfather's smooth voice rumbled in his ear, "In the letter we talked about my family in?"

When Harry nodded slowly, remembering the guilt he'd felt when he'd felt _pleased_ that Sirius had been abused too, Sirius tightened his grip on him and continued. "That first night I couldn't sleep and I ended up sneaking into your father's room to talk. I cried so much that night that we both needed a pepper-up potion to get through the day because I'd kept us both up. Sometimes a guy – or a girl – just needs to cry, to let it all out, there's nothing wrong with that kid," he promised softly, making Harry's arms tighten around him as well.

"I want to be angry," Harry confessed, grateful that he was still being hugged as he could pretend Sirius couldn't hear the words Harry was speaking into his chest. "I want to be angry at them all so much, and I kind of am… but mostly I think I'm just hurt," he mumbled, "Hurt that they all chose to believe in Dumbledore instead of believing in me. But most of all," Harry continued when Sirius made an approving noise, "I'm disappointed. I used to think that the three of us would graduate Hogwarts together and would be best friends even once we were old and grey, and now I can't even think about them without getting all sad".

"Merlin I sound like a little kid," Harry spat, disgusted in himself for being so pathetic despite Sirius' reassurances.

"I've already said it's fine, Pup," Sirius argued calmly, "Boy-Who-Lived or not, you're still just a boy. And boys, despite what some people think, _do_ have feelings".

Scoffing, Harry just buried his face further into Sirius' chest, content to just stand there and soak up all the love he'd missed out during his childhood. "Anyway," his godfather continued slowly, "Last night wasn't what I wanted to talk to you about, well actually it was," he corrected before letting out an annoyed noise. "Our _heart-to-heart_ last night wasn't what I wanted to talk to you about," Sirius said carefully, trying again as Harry snickered against his chest, "I'm more interested in your 'wandless magic', actually. Yeah see? You know what I mean," he agreed smugly when Harry stiffened.

"It's just wandless magic," Harry lied defensively as he pulled away from Sirius and turned his attention to Hedwig casually. "I did it when the dementors attacked, I just practiced it since then".

"Come on, Harry," Sirius exhaled gently. "I know I'm not entirely in one piece after Azkaban, but you're talking to one of the Marauders. You can't bull-shit a bull-shitter, and I'm a _very_ good bull-shitter".

"I don't know what you mean," Harry tried, shrugging as he turned back to Sirius, realising nervously that he'd never come up with a secondary excuse beyond 'wandless magic'. "It just happens".

"The only spells that are cast-able without a wand are called 'cantrips'," his godfather explained simply, "Your father and I studied wandless magic when we were doing the animagus transformation, since the transformation is wandless. The fire-throwing charm is _not_ a cantrip, and even if it was then the likelihood that a fifteen-year-old boy could not only cast it but cast it _silently_? You don't have to tell me the truth, Harry, but please don't look me in the eyes and lie to me".

Staring at his godfather for a moment and seeing the very real emotions in the convict's eyes, Harry just shrugged dumbly, making his mind up on the fly. "I wasn't lying," he said simply, "It happened when the dementors attacked me and I've been doing it ever since. I just don't know what it is".

"You don't need a wand?"

 _Snap_.

"Obviously not," Sirius murmured as Harry carefully held the fireball away from the cautious-looking Hedwig, crushing it in his fist as he gently stroked his owl's chest. "Doesn't that hurt you?"

"I stuck my hand into a bowl of boiling water and it felt warm," Harry confessed, not wanting to look at Sirius to see the disgust on his face. (Even though he knew logically that his godfather wasn't going to turn on him for this, of all things).

When his godfather didn't say anything, the silence beginning to press down on Harry's shoulders heavily, the dark-haired wizard had no choice but to glance over to see the animagus frowning at him. "Sirius?"

Jumping slightly, his godfather shook his head, frown still fixed on his face. "Sorry Pup, it's just… I swear I've heard about something like that, but for the life of me I can't think of where," the man apologised slowly as Harry straightened up hopefully.

"So… so I'm not some kind of… freak or anything?" he blurted before he could stop himself, darkness flashing through Sirius' eyes as the convict launched himself across the room to grab Harry's shoulders again, this time squeezing them almost painfully as the man's grip tightened.

"You are _never_ a freak; do you get me?" Sirius demanded, a flicker of fear darting through Harry's chest for a moment before he remembered Sirius' Mums' favourite nickname for her eldest son.

"I'm sorry, Sirius, I didn't mean it like that," Harry apologised weakly, "You know I-" grunting as he was pulled tight against his godfather's chest, Harry couldn't help but muse if there was some kind of limit to how many hugs a man could give another man a year before it turned weird. He was pretty sure that if there _was_ a limit, that he and Sirius were already way over it.

"Don't apologise, I shouldn't have overreacted," Sirius mumbled into his hair.

"But still," Harry pressed after a couple of seconds, "I'm not…".

"Alone?" Sirius asked, "No… no you're not," he breathed out. "I remember something about an army? There was a king who made some kind of deal, I think?" he explained uncertainly, "There were _definitely_ others," he promised Harry as they parted. "But… if somehow you are? I want you to know that I will _never_ leave your side again". As an indignant hoot echoed through the room, a grin split Harry's face when Sirius tilted his head back to bark out a happy laugh. "I'll have to get in line behind Hedwig, of course," he corrected, still chuckling, "But I think my point still stands, you'll never be alone".

Smiling thankfully at his godfather, feeling like his sullen mood had lifted (not that he was back to normal and ready to stand handing out forgiveness), Harry jerked in fright as a loud rumble echoed through the air. "I guess we missed dinner last night didn't we," he mumbled as he placed his hand over his stumble, grinning stupidly as Sirius' stomach rumbled back in greeting.

"Lupin did say breakfast was ready right?" his godfather asked, Harry holding his arm out for Hedwig to hop onto, the owl shuffling up to his shoulder as the two of them left Harry's room and started down the stairs. "Who knows," Sirius added, "If breakfast if already over I might have to cook up some of my family 'Black Bacon'," he offered, "And no, it's not a family recipe, I'm just a terrible cook so it's always burnt".

Chuckling, Harry wondered for a moment if he should broach the subject of the obvious rift between the two Marauders, the two of them hadn't been acting so coldly towards each other the last time he'd seen them together after all. Deciding not to as they reached the kitchen/meeting room to find the werewolf sitting at the table reading a newspaper, Harry took one look at the table and suddenly regretted not staying upstairs for breakfast, the sight of Hermione, Ron, and Ginny waiting for him expectantly turning his stomach already.

"Oh Harry! You're looking much better this morning," Mrs Weasley exclaimed as her fiery-haired head popped through the archway to where Harry could see a sink with self-cleaning dishes. "You looked so tired last night," she bustled as she hurried into the room and pulled him into a bone-crushing hug that he didn't have the space to duck away from. "It's okay honey," she added in a whisper, "We don't blame you for anything you said last night, we all know you didn't mean it and that you're just a little stressed".

"Oh I'm definitely stressed," Harry agreed bluntly, "But I still hate you all and refuse to lift a finger to help you".

As Mrs Weasley gaped at him in shock Harry unceremoniously clambered onto the table top and jumped down behind her as her plump bulk blocked off the narrow aisles between the table and the wall. "Coming Sirius?" he called over his shoulder as a large black dog shoved its way out from underneath the table and followed him into the kitchen, hearing the sound of four paws fluidly changing to two feet as he looked around the room curiously.

"I wouldn't open that if I were you, I'm pretty sure something's alive in there," Sirius warned as Harry approached what he assumed was the wizarding version of a fridge. "If you want food you'll have to send for it, Dumbledore normally has a house elf send a package of ingredients for Molly to use, she's obviously sent the leftovers back by now".

His godfather's words pulled a smile onto his face, and Harry cleared his throat loudly. "Oh, it's such a shame that I don't have a house elf of my own to bring my godfather and I breakfast".

"Har- _crack crack_ -ry?"

"Thank you Dobby," Harry called with a smile. He'd need to do something nice for that elf, maybe give him some galleons to go buy himself some colourful socks.

"You have a house elf then?" Sirius asked slowly as they looked between the two full plates of bacon and eggs waiting on the bench for them, the amusement clear in the older man's voice.

"I have a friend," Harry corrected, taking the plates and handing on to his godfather, letting the man lead the way past the still shell-shocked Mrs Weasley and back up the stairs into what Harry despaired to discover was a library. "I feel I should warn you I'm allergic to books".

"I tried that one back when I was your age," Sirius dismissed with a snort, "It didn't work on Minnie then and it won't work on her now I promise you that".

"I know," Harry mumbled sheepishly, "I tried".

Exchanging a quick grin with Sirius, Harry felt himself tensing up and looking down at his breakfast mournfully when loud footsteps thundered up the stairs and through the open door.

"What the _BLOODY HELL_ was all that about?!"

"What was all what about?" Harry asked casually, moving his chair around so he could raise an eyebrow at Ron, really not looking forward to another argument right now. He knew he should have expected them to try again, and he _had_ thought he'd have to scream at them a little more before they got it through their heads he was done with them, but Harry had been hoping that he would be able to get through today without someone ruining his mood.

"You bloody know what I'm talking about! I thought we were best mates!" Ron demanded furiously. "Best mates don't talk to each other's Mums like that!"

"You thought wrong, we're not even friends let along best friends," Harry denied bluntly, crossing his arms and settling in for a long argument of using only words he'd learned in muggle primary school. "And personally I thought what I said to your Mum was rather mild". He might not have much… appreciation… for Mrs Weasley right now, but she _did_ still take him in when she didn't have to and treated him like her own son, Harry felt he owed her something for that.

"That doesn't make it the right thing to say, Harry!" Hermione interrupted unhappily, "You really hurt her feelings!"

A flutter of guilt dancing through his chest, Harry brushed it aside quickly and instead focused on the determined glare on Hermione's face. "So I'm not allowed to tell someone how I feel about them, but they're allowed to treat me like an animal and that's okay?" he asked coldly.

"Oh for Merlin's sake! Grow up, Harry James Potter!" Hermione shouted, stomping her foot angrily. "I let you yell at us last night because I knew you were stressed and hurt, but you're taking this too far! You're just acting like a child who thinks they can hold their breath until they're given what they want!"

Well… that was an efficient way to ruin his mood for the day.

"If I thought that would work I would have done it, Hermione," Harry admitted slowly, "But I knew Dumbledore wasn't going to tell me anything, if he _had_ been going to then he wouldn't have left me alone in the dark and ordered my so-called friends to cut off all contact with me. So what's the point in holding my breath for a pointless cause?"

"It _wasn't_ pointless!" Hermione argued loudly, "Ron and I were going to tell you _everything_ if you hadn't jumped down our throats last night!"

"Like what?" said Harry, "What could you possibly tell me that I didn't have to find out from other people _because you betrayed me_! This isn't even about the Order of the Phoenix anymore!" he confessed as he stood up and glared, my problem with you two is that you were my best friends and I thought we were-" freezing as he realised what he was about to say, Harry glanced back at Sirius apologetically before taking a breath and finishing his sentence. "I thought we were the Golden Trio, that we were strong, but I guess we're just like the Marauders with two Wormtails instead".

All of them flinching as Sirius' knife scratched across his plate, they all took a moment to wait for the man to say something, before Hermione took the silence as her cue to say. "We are _nothing_ like him… how could you even say that? We're your best friends!"

"James was Wormtail's best friend," Sirius rasped out from behind them, "He was my best friend. And he got Prongs killed and framed me for the murder".

As Hermione ran from the room, choking on a sob, Harry just raised his jaw and stared at Ron challengingly. "You've already betrayed me once, Weasley, you're not getting a third opportunity to stab me in the back," he stated bluntly, making the boy's face go as red as his hair as he whirled about and stomped out.

"Excuse me while I ignore you for speaking about _him_ around me," Sirius announced, only the pain in his voice keeping Harry from snorting. "And _don't_ apologise," the man added quickly as Harry turned to do just that, "It needed to be said".

"Why does life suck so much?" Harry asked (not whined, he never whined) as he dropped back into his chair, staring down at the meal he suddenly wasn't in the mood for.

Dragging his chair around the table when Sirius merely raised an arm silently, Harry leaned against his godfather's side in another one-armed hug. "Because if it didn't then it'd be too easy, life's got to do something to keep up devilishly handsome young men from developing a complex," the man bull-shitted randomly, the two of them snorting simultaneously seconds later.

They sat in silence for a moment, both of them clearly lost in their own thoughts. Harry's being filled with doubts over his current path, he knew that everyone would accept him back if he apologised now. But the thing was, he didn't _want_ to go back to the way everything was, he liked being taken seriously for once. He liked being able to speak his mind. Merlin, he liked being able to act like Harry Potter; Fifteen-year-old instead of Harry Potter; Boy-Who-Lived.

He wondered what Sirius was thinking about, probably something equally as complex. Either that or he was thinking about Wormtail, Harry realised guiltily, after his not-so-subtle reminder of his betrayal earlier.

"Do you think we're hugging too much?" Sirius asked suddenly, cutting through Harry's thoughts, "I like hugging, but isn't there like some type of quota for man-hugs that we should be watching out for?"

Or not… well, Sirius _did_ say he wasn't in once piece after Azkaban, Harry couldn't say he wasn't warned.

* * *

 **IGNITION**

* * *

 **Last chapter got 68 reviews, that's twice as many as the first chapter did! I'm glad to see you're all liking this story so much, even though I know from the reviews the real love is towards a Harry who isn't hesitating to stand up for himself and speak his mind. Anyway, as I promised, here's a little more confrontation between Ron and Hermione and our dashing hero, although the Harry-Sirius fluff moment took up a LOT more of the chapter than I thought it would.**

 **Also. Fanfiction finally got their sync issue fixed, where I received the emails for your reviews but they didn't 'exist' technically yet. So I'll be able to answer any reviews you send for this chapter.**

 **Thank you again for the whopping 68 reviews last chapter guys and gals!**

* * *

 **IGNITION**


	10. Armies

_Harry blamed Sirius._

 _If his godfather hadn't mentioned the story about the other people like him, if he hadn't mentioned the King and the army, then maybe Harry wouldn't be having this dream right now and instead would be dreaming about something a lot nicer._

 _Nice like Treacle Tart._

 _But Sirius_ had _mentioned the King and the army, he_ had _mentioned that there were others like Harry. And now he was trapped in a dream, watching as his mind conjured up a horde of what appeared to be Romans. The black-clad army was trying to invade a small fort near the top of a huge mountain, Harry not recognising any familiar symbols or signs to help him place where his dream had dropped him, not even the city spread out below the mountain that was seemingly unaware of the battle going on above their heads._

 _As Harry watched, standing in one of the towers and looking down on the battle, both arrows and spells flew both ways – a wizarding war then, not that he remembered hearing of any wizarding wars in Ancient Rome (or Greece, he honestly didn't know the difference)._

 _Flinching as a spell blew open the roof of the tower, Harry tried to duck under a large chunk of rubble, stumbling as it fell right through him like he wasn't there. Right he was dreaming, was that why everything felt so… stilted? Because he was dreaming? It all felt disjointed, like he was exhausted and trying to follow one of Hermione's "Today I learnt in Ancient Runes" talks at the same time, most of the information he was taking in going out the other ear while the other half somehow changed into meaningless words and sounds._

 _But if there was one thing that was coming through the blur of spellfire and battle, it was that the wizards and witches dressed in ragged purple armour and togas were losing to the darker army attacking them. There were more than twice as many black soldiers than there were of the purple defenders, who looked like they were on their last wind and were only being held together with muggle duct-tape. In a brief moment of emotion, Harry imagined himself and his 'side' against the Voldemort and his Death Eaters, him and Sirius standing alone against the black wave, with the Ministry and the wizarding world lying about to the side completely unaware of the battle right in front of their noses._

" _I can't do it father!"_

 _Whirling around as two men stalked onto the top of the ruined tower, four exhausted soldiers trailing after them, Harry watched as the arguing father left the soldiers behind and dragged his son towards the edge of the tower._

" _Look down there and tell your people that!" the man shouted, jabbing a finger down towards both the losing defenders and the city below them. "You_ must _do it, there is no other hope for our survival"._

" _If I do it, father, then_ no-one _will survive," his son argued, shaking his head slowly as he stepped away from the older man. "Lady Trivia has not seen fit to gift me such power yet, even if I could unleash it, I could not control it," he explained desperately, Harry almost feeling his fear and urgent need for his father to understand._

" _Cato. They will_ die _if you don't"._

" _Father. They will die if I_ do _," the young man exhaled softly, a lost expression on his face. "_ Everyone _will die," he continued when his father opened his mouth to continue arguing, "Yes the Dark Lord and his servants will die. But so will you, me, our people, the entire city. Ask me to go down there and fight to my last breath, but do not ask me to do this"._

 _Drawing himself up and puffing out his chest to make himself look bigger, Harry watched as the father looked down his nose at his son. "I gave you an order, Cato," he said coldly, "The Dark Lord will fall here, no matter the sacrifice"._

 _And with that the man was turning and stalking away, gesturing the soldiers to follow him as Cato sagged and hunched in on himself. Choking on his breath as a wave of sadness flooded him, Harry staggered forward hesitantly, realising this was more than just a mere dream as he approached the trembling blonde man slowly._

" _Lord Vulcan, forgive me for what I'm about to do," Cato rasped out, Harry flinching at the tears both on the man's face and in his voice. "If I deserve it"._

 _Turning around to face the mountain, and Harry, Cato slowly spread his arms and closed his eyes as he focused on something. As he cautiously walked towards the silent man Harry froze as he felt a more than familiar spark, coming not from him but from the blonde before him. Concentrating on Cato as the man's trembling became more noticeable, a sweat building up on his face as veins became more pronounced, Harry struggled to follow the faint line of power running from the blonde's chest to… to the mountain._

 _Cato wasn't the one shaking…_ everything _was._

 _Jumping as a gasp echoed through the air, Harry twisted around to see Cato was glowing now, his eyes snapping open with an unnatural red-orange glow to them as they locked directly onto Harry's emerald ones._

" _I'm sorry," he whispered, "I'm so sorry"._

" _Oh Merlin," Harry murmured as everything fell into place, head snapping around to stare down at the city and then back up at the mountain… the volcano. "Don't do it! Cato! Stop!"_

 _Cato could hear him, he could see Harry after all, maybe he could hear him too and stop this before an entire city was destroyed._

" _It's too late," the man exhaled, "It's too late"._

Choking on a scream as the mountaintop exploded, Harry shot up in bed, sweat pouring down his face as fire danced through the air.

Scrambling off his bed to Hedwig's startled hoots, Harry kept his flaming forearms stretched out in front of him, hoping not to burn anything other than his already well-done blankets. Trying to control his breathing, he kept his arms out and clamped his eyes shut, pushing uselessly at the fire burning out from beneath his skin and trying to trap it back inside.

It felt like he was trying to fight fire with oil though, Cato's emotions still overpowering any restraint and control he had up till now.

" _Stupefy_!"

A flash of light made Harry's eyes snap open suddenly, leaving him staring up at Sirius in shock as his godfather cupped his face gently.

"Hey kiddo, you feeling better now?" Sirius questioned nervously, Harry blinking slowly as he looked around hesitantly to find himself lying on the floor.

"What happened?"

"I had to stun you," the dog animagus admitted unhappily, "You were losing control, it was either that or you'd burn the house down. Of course, I wouldn't complain if you chose to burn this place down," he added with a shrug, "But I hardly think this is the best time for that".

Staring at his godfather in confusion, Harry felt a rush of shame as he realised what had just almost happened, sitting up and looking down at his hands in betrayal.

"Kid," Sirius said gently, making him tear his eyes away. "Tonks is here to talk to you, she says it's important?"

* * *

 _ **Ignition**_

* * *

" _Dear Mr Potter,_

 _The Ministry of Magic has received intelligence that you performed two counts of the Stunning Charm at fifteen minutes past nine this morning in a Muggle-inhabited area and in the presence of a Muggle._

 _Due to the severity of this breach and your past history of flaunting the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery, you have been hereby expelled from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Ministry representatives will be calling at your place of residence shortly to destroy your wand and bring you into custody for your crimes against wizardkind._

 _Hoping you are well,_

 _Mafalda Hopkirk,  
Improper Use of Magic Office  
Ministry of Magic."_

Staring down at the letter in dumb shock, Harry slowly looked up at the person standing opposite him, taking in the serious look in their eyes.

"Is this for real?" he asked blankly, "They're really trying the same thing twice?"

"It's real, Harry," Tonks admitted, scrunching up her nose as she pulled out a chair to sit at the table. "The letter was actually written by Madam Hopkirk, and the spells do register on your Trace report. Madam Bones was able to confirm that".

"But I wasn't even there at fifteen minutes past nine! I can't have cast those spells!"

"I know," Tonks agreed simply. "Because I did, well, me and Madam Bones did," she clarified as Harry's hand snapped down to grab his wand. "We were there to question that nasty cousin of yours, chill," she defended, raising her hands to show they were empty, "Madam Bones wanted to get proof about those dementors but your Uncle and cousin got a little... unnecessarily... violent. We were forced to stun them, this letter showed up mere minutes later".

"But then that's not my fault is it? I'm not really expelled from Hogwarts am I?" Harry questioned nervously.

"No! Oh Merlin no!" Tonks assured him quickly, "When some Aurors showed up to arrest 'you', Madam Bones and I were waiting for them. She's already fixed everything, so you don't need to worry". Tonks hesitated and shifted uncomfortably, "And she wants you to come in to the Ministry for a 'trial'," she admitted slowly, "It's a farce, so you don't have to worry, but we need an excuse to get Fudge and Umbridge into a courtroom".

"So I should just go ask Dumbledore if I can leave the house, to go to a meeting with a person he ordered not to talk to me in the first place?" Harry asked dryly.

"Or you could hide in the kitchen under that cloak of yours and then take the floo to the Ministry while Sirius and the Twins cause a distraction using the everlasting fireworks Madam Bones budgeted me under 'workplace expenses'," the Metamorphmagus corrected with a roll of her eyes. "It's not like he's not expecting you to leave the house anyway, the trial is on the same day as the fake one Umbridge arranged for is, you'll just be leaving a little earlier".

"Yeah that'll work too," Harry agreed, only a little disappointed that he didn't get to see the look on Dumbledore's face when he asked to leave.

"I'll let you know when it's time," Tonks declared, standing up again and smoothing down her robes with a smile, before turning and heading for the door. "Oh, and one thing," she added as she waved her wand to remove the silencing charm she'd put up around the library, "I know it's not my place to say anything. But you're not angry at me are you?" she asked nervously, "I mean, I didn't do anything to you did I?"

"I'm not angry at you," he assured her, "You're good".

As Tonks beamed happily and turned to skip out of the room humming, Harry looked down at the letter in his hands again, wondering just how desperate the Ministry of Magic was to destroy him. Either way, he was glad that he had Madam Bones on his side; an owl and an escaped convict were hardly the best people to help him take down a corrupt government. Not that Harry wanted to take down a corrupt government, just Fudge and this 'Umbridge' character.

"Harry?"

Humming in acknowledgement, Harry waited for his godfather to continue speaking as he folded the letter back up and pulled off his backpack, safely storing it with the rest of his letters.

"What the hell was what?"

"That was Tonks, your cousin," Harry deadpanned, hiding his smirk as Sirius shot him an unimpressed look.

"Don't make me hex you, kiddo," Sirius said warningly. "That's how you knew, isn't it? You've got the Head of the DMLE wrapped around your little finger, don't you?"

"I wouldn't say that," Harry edged uncertainly; "I'd say she's on my side after she found out the Minister tried to get me killed".

Sirius blinked, shocked speechless as Harry kicked himself. Maybe he should have eased into that; instead of coming right out and casually throwing the assassination attempt into the conversation like it was nothing.

"Can you do that silence thing?" Harry asked as Sirius opened his mouth, "We're going to have to start from the beginning".

* * *

 _ **Ignition**_

* * *

"Wand"

Handing his wand over obediently, Harry watched as the security wizard lazily dropped it onto a strange-looking bronze scale. Standing stiffly as the scales vibrated, pushing a narrow strip of parchment out of their base, he narrowed his eyes suspiciously as the man tore it off and glanced over it.

"Eleven inches, phoenix-feather core, been in use four years? That correct?"

"Yes," Harry confirmed, fighting the urge to snatch his wand back as the wizard handing it over and speared the parchment onto a small spike beside him.

"Welcome to the Ministry, have a pleasant da- hang on!"

Rolling his eyes as the security wizard looked between the badge on his chest and his forehead, Harry just swept past him and ignored the way the wizard called after him, instead beginning to search the crowd for a familiar head of pink hair.

"Wotcher, Harry!"

Smiling politely at the young auror, Harry made his way through the crowd towards her, Tonks looking nothing like the other aurors surrounding her due to her beaming grin and luminescent hair. "Oh it's fine, Harry, I just got hexed by a perp I had to bring in earlier," Tonks explained when she noticed where his attention was. "Medical said it wasn't a harmful spell so I decided to keep it, looks cool doesn't it?"

"It suits you," Harry lied, just so he had something to say that prevented an awkward silence.

"I know right?" Tonks agreed happily, "Come on, this way. Madam Bones is waiting for you in her office, she says this is important".

Easily following the bobbing and glowing pink head through the crowd, Harry found himself being led towards a series of golden lift set in a smaller hallway beside the atrium. Sticking close to Tonks and smoothing down his fringe as they cut straight through a line and instead approached a silver coloured lift that had the crest of the DMLE on its front.

"Just in here, Harry. Did you get away from the house alright?" Tonks questioned quietly as she opened the lift with a simple tap of her wand to the matching badge on her chest.

"The fireworks you gave the Twins… kind of exploded," Harry confessed hesitantly, flinching as Tonks' neck let out a dangerous-sounding crack when her head snapped around. "They were fiddling with them," he explained quickly, "They said they almost had the formula down, but the last aspect always gave them trouble". Pausing and trying to hide the smile tugging at his lips, Harry cleared his throat, "The fireworks turned sentient and dive-bombed anyone who came too close, last I saw they'd burned through Ron's pants".

"You didn't… you didn't see anything did you?" Tonks asked, her hair and face turning green.

"Mrs Weasley was adjusting the height of his robes, so thankfully he was wearing them," Harry admitted making Tonks sigh in relief. "I think the Twins are just lucky that the fireworks didn't burn anyone".

"It's a shame I missed it," Tonks murmured unhappily. "Ah! Here we go! Harry, I welcome you to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement!"

Following Tonks out into a hall around the size of Hogwarts' Great Hall, Harry looked around curiously, a little surprised by the muggle appearance of the cubicles and the aurors themselves. All in all, the DMLE was nothing like he would have expected, while there were some obviously magical items lying about – such as the purple paper aeroplanes zipping through the air – the muggle swivelling chairs and water cooler told a different story.

"You'll have to wait outside Madam Bones' office for a while, Harry," Tonks instructed as they moved through the hall, nobody giving them a second glance despite the way Harry was certain they all saw the badge on his chest. "I'll let her know you're waiting and she'll come get you when you're ready. She's a very busy woman," she added apologetically.

"It's fine," Harry assured as they reached a small alcove, a door at its tip with the name _'Madam Amelia Bones; Head of the DMLE'_ etched into it in gold. "I can wait," he added as he sat in the offered seat, Tonks smiling at him before hurrying over to a set of cubicles and ducking into one of them.

They'd arranged for him to sneak out and arrive at the Ministry for his trial early anyway, so sitting in the 'waiting room' wasn't really a problem for him, especially not considering the talk he and Madam Bones were about to have.

It could be worse though, he could be back at Grimmauld Place with nothing but an overprotective godfather and his thoughts. At least here in public he didn't have to worry about his mind running away from him, conjuring up images of him losing control and burning the entire house down. He'd always been good at throwing up masks in public, none of his fellow students at Hogwarts had realised how much their hate had hurt him during the parseltongue or goblet of fire 'incidents' after all.

Slowly looking down at his hands again, Harry flexed his fingers slowly, unable to help but dread how dangerous he would become. Cato – if his vision had truly been a vision – had caused the eruption of an entire _volcano_. What would Harry become capable of? There may not be any volcanos within England, but as the morning after his dream had proven he was still more than dangerous even without one. And right now the last thing he wanted was to be dangerous, he'd willingly give up all of his power if it meant he wouldn't lose control of it and kill everyone.

Glancing up as someone's footsteps stumbled, Harry barely wasted a moment looking at the angry-looking auror walking past the waiting area before he was looking back down at his hands. He wasn't surprised about the glare; Tonks had explained that his innocence regarding the second crime 'he' had committed was being kept a secret between the aurors that had showed up to arrest him. Madam Bones didn't want to risk the news getting back to anyone loyal to Umbridge or the Minister, so she did something that ensured their silence. They had to keep the entire plan – which Harry knew so little about that it made him itch – under wraps for as long as they could so that there was no chance that neither the Minister nor Umbridge were alerted.

"Mister Potter? Follow me please".

Leaping to his feet and rushing after the monocle-wearing woman, Harry shut the door behind him at her gesture and watched as Madam Bones tapped her wand silently on three ruby's inset into the corner of the desk.

"Take a seat, please, Mister Potter," the Head of the DMLE requested as Harry caught sight of the two other women in the office. "Might I introduce to you Madams Hopkirk and Marchbanks, of the Improper Use of Magic and the Division for Magical Education offices respectively. Madams Hopkirk and Marchbanks, may I introduce you to Mister Harry James Potter," Madam Bones said formally, making Harry incline his head respectively towards the two women even as he hid his confusion.

"This meeting is called in response to the severe breach of the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery by the aforementioned Harry James Potter – inhabitant of 4 Privet Drive, Surrey – at fifteen minutes past nine on the 10th of August," Madam Bones continued without hesitation, "Does everyone understand the charges?"

"I do," Harry answered when both Hopkirk and Marchbanks said the same without hesitation.

"Very well, Mister Potter, please sit".

"You stand accused of casting two counts of the stunning charm at fifteen minutes past nine on the 10th of August," Madam Bones recited, sounding very bored as the other two women sighed. "How do you plead?"

"Not Guilty?"

"Very well," Madam Bones added, nodding to Marchbanks as she stood, "Do you have any proof to support your claims? A witness, for example?"

Oh! Now Harry understood, this little trial was going to be as biased as the one the Minister was planning on springing on him.

"I have proof. Two witnesses," he explained to Madam Marchbanks as the woman took Madam Bones' seat.

"Both my own and Auror Tonks' witness statements have been given to the presiding," Madam Bones added as she took a seat in the corner and winked at Harry.

"The presiding have read the witness statements and have interrogated the witnesses to our satisfaction," Madam Marchbanks declared, "All in favour of clearing Mister Potter of all charges? Agreed, so mote it be. Mister Potter, all charges have been dropped. Well done".

"Thank you Griselda, Mafalda," Madam Bones said calmly as she stood, the formal air to the room vanishing suddenly as everyone else stood. "That must have been one of the fastest hearings we've done yet".

"Of course, of course. We will see you in the courtroom, Amelia," Mafalda answered as Madam Bones deactivated the glowing rubies on the desk and Marchbanks swept out of the room without a second glance.

"Thank you for bearing with me through that," Madam Bones said to Harry as she reactivated the rubies with a sigh, "We believed it to be for the best to go through the actions of a trial to prevent loopholes from being exploited".

"Makes sense," Harry agreed with a murmur when the DMLE Head stopped speaking.

The woman hummed in agreement, tapping her wand on a file that he could clearly see the name _'Harry James Potter'_ across the top of it. "Now, Mister Potter," Madam Bones began slowly, "I'm glad you agreed to meet me here before your 'trial' began, it gives us a chance to go over our so-called 'plan of attack' for how we-"

The woman froze as a purple aeroplane flew over Harry's head, making him glance over his shoulder towards the solid wall in confusion.

"It's just an interdepartmental memo, Mister Potter, the Ministry used to use owls but the mess was unbelievable. Anyway, as I was saying," the woman continued as she caught the aeroplane and set it down in a box labelled ' _inbox'_ , "I managed to gain enough evidence to engage in a low-key investigation of Senior Undersecretary Dolores Umbridge's actions".

"Madam Bones," Harry blurted, staring at the purple aeroplane as something twisted in his chest with a morbid sense of _bad_. "I think you should read that".

"Mister Potter?"

"I'm getting a really bad feeling about that memo," Harry explained as Madam Bones eyed him curiously, "Something tells me you should read it".

The woman squinted through her monocle at him for a moment before sighing, turning to inspect the memo through her monocle again before picking it up and unfolding it, reading it with an annoyed expression on her face.

"Mister Potter".

Head snapping back up to face Madam Bones at the anger in her voice, he watched nervously as the woman leapt to her feet and incinerated the memo with the wand she drew during the same movement.

"Wait for me outside my office," Madam Bones ordered as her wand flicked rapidly around the room.

"Madam Bones?"

The woman let out an angry growl and whirled around to face Harry, forcibly calming herself down as she smoothed out her robes. "That memo was a reminder about your trial today. It called together the entire Wizengamot, something I cannot believe Cornelius would be _stupid_ enough to do to," she explained furiously, "Especially considering he's changed the _time_ of your trial as well".

"He changed the time?" Harry asked nervously, "To when?"

"To ten minutes from now," Madam Bones deadpanned.

* * *

 **IGNITION**

* * *

 **Because I've been asked this question so many times in reviews, I'll announce it formally here and then verbally abuse anyone who sends me a message about it.**

 **THIS STORY IS NOT SLASH. HARRY REMAINS A HETEROSEXUAL LIKE IN CANON, THE ONLY DIFFERENCE IS THERE IS NO END PAIRING.**

 **So there you go, that is the last time I'll say it, you've been warned about the verbal abuse so don't start whining when it happens. At the same time, I'd like to apologise for last week's non-update, I had finished the FIVE THOUSAND WORD CHAPTER and as I was saving I bumped the power cable of my laptop (which is really really old) and the entire thing crashed… thus corrupting the ENTIRE file and making me lose it all.**

 **I doubt you realise how much of a shame this is, as the dream sequence was ten times better in the first one, like bloody poetry.**

 **OH! And please stop commenting on the length of my chapters, if it's too short for you then stop reading, but I've already doubled the length of my chapters from 2k to 4k since starting this story and I refuse to force it anymore.**

 **Thank you to everyone who reviewed last chapter!**


	11. Crimes

"Ten min- _Ten minutes from now_?"

"Out!" Madam Bones shouted, waving her hands at him, "I must prepare. Out! _Now_!"

Hurrying from the room when the monocle-wearing woman turned her wand on him, Harry slammed the door shut behind him and started pacing in the waiting area furiously.

They'd changed the time of his 'hearing' and yet Harry hadn't received an owl about it. Did that mean that owls couldn't reach him inside the Ministry, or that there had been no owl sent to him in the first place? He didn't want to automatically blame the Ministry, but the way things looked right now it was obvious to Harry that this was done intentionally to try catch him out. He didn't doubt that if he hadn't received the owl he would have been around an hour late for his trial, and would likely have been declared guilty in his absence. The only question now was, was changing the trial time like that actually illegal in the _wizarding_ world? He was fairly certain that it was in the muggle one, but he was hardly a lawyer.

Either way, this was just another nail in the coffin of the Ministry.

"With me, Mister Potter," Madam Bones declared as the door swung open and she swept out of her office, now clad in what Harry thought to be a ridiculous-looking hat and some elegant formal black robes. Looking down at himself as he followed her Harry realised how lucky he was to have Sirius, as his godfather had managed to shrink his jacket to fit him better and had changed the colours to ones he had deemed more appropriate. He wouldn't stand out as someone clearly muggle-raised and poor (not that he was tight for galleons) with his godfather's improvements.

"Would you like to press charges?"

"What? I mean, pardon?" Harry asked as he and Madame Bones stepped into another of the silver lifts.

"Would you like to press charges?" the woman repeated stiffly, "Against the Ministry? The Wizengamot Charter of Rights clearly states that the time of the trial cannot be changed within twenty-four hours of it beginning without the written and spoken agreement of both the defending and accusing parties. Since I highly doubt you gave permission for the trial time to be changed, you are legally permitted to press charges against the Ministry of Magic".

"Oh uh… n-yes?" he answered hesitantly, changing his response at the last second when Madam Bones shot him a warning look and nodded her head quickly. "Yes, Madam Bones, I would like to press charges against the Ministry for this," Harry said more formally when the woman looked expectant.

"Thank you, that will make this a lot easier," Madam Bones admitted, her shoulders hunching just a little as the lift started moving. "Now listen carefully, Harry for we do not have much time," she continued. "I wish we had the chance to go over this properly but obviously we do not".

"You _must_ answer every question as honestly as you can, but do _not_ intentionally try to stir up trouble. We want the Wizengamot on your side, not to alienate them by pointing out the many, many flaws with the Ministry. Focus all your attention on the Minister and the Senior Undersecretary," the Head of the DMLE explained hurriedly, "But don't ignore everybody else. Speak in full articulate sentences, don't use nicknames or other slang, and _never_ touch your wand. Should you be asked a question and have your answer ignored, call upon the 'Wizengamot Charter of Rights' which states that you _must_ be heard or the trial is considered illegal, if you're falsely accused of something speak up about it but do not argue mindlessly. I will back you up if you do, but I will not intervene until the right time. And I understand if you disagree with this last point, but under no circumstances can you bring up You-Know-Who's return last summer".

"What?" Harry exclaimed, mouth snapping shut as Madam Bones raised her hand.

"That is exactly what Cornelius is waiting for. If you give him the opening, he will rally the Wizengamot against with you rumours of your 'attention-seeking nature'," she justified, "There will be time to prove the Dark Lord has returned later, for now this trial is about you and Umbridge. Do you understand?"

"I do," Harry admitted unhappily. And he did, it made sense to try take everything one step at a time, if he tried to tackle it all at once he'd lose – it just didn't mean he had to like it.

"Unfortunately," Madam Bones continued as the lift came to a stop before started going sideways. "I do not have high hopes for the outcome of this trial. If you seek to get the Minister and the Undersecretary in Azkaban or have their wands snapped, then you are no doubt going to be sorely disappointed," she clarified as Harry's head snapped around to stare at her. "If you are lucky you will leave the courtroom with ten thousand more galleons in your Gringotts Vault and two empty vacancies in the Ministry's higher departments, but we will have no way of knowing the outcome until it happens".

Nodding slowly, Harry considered his options. He had never really thought about what he wanted from this trial, all he had wanted when he heard this 'Umbridge' person had been for her – and maybe the Minister as well – to pay for trying to get him kissed. So for her to be a lot of galleons poorer _and_ unemployed wasn't all that bad, it definitely didn't make up for trying to get him killed, but it was a good building block for future revenge.

"What are _you_ doing down here?"

Blinking in shock as Madam Bones' voice pulled his mind back to the present, Harry immediately glared at the sight of Lucius Malfoy stepping from one of the normal golden lifts, the platinum blond freezing with an owl-in-the-headlights expression on his face. The hilarious look fading into a blank mask as Malfoy straightened up and tried to sneer down his nose at the shorter Madam Bones, the man just raised his eyebrow smugly before turning to face Harry with a matching scowl.

"Say a word to Mister Potter and I'll have you in a cell for obstructing justice and interfering with an official trial," Madam Bones snapped, cutting the man off before he could speak. "In all fairness, I should probably put you in a cell anyway for trespassing, or did you not hear the lift informing you that this level is restricted to individuals with passes and Unspeakables _only_ ".

"I merely came down here to see justice being done, not to obstruct it," Lucius began calmly.

"Then turn around and leave, or you'll see justice being done first hand when I pull you in front of the Wizengamot myself," Madam Bones threatened, making Malfoy sneer before whirling around and stalking back into the lift, glaring at them darkly as the grille slid shut and the lift started moving.

Coughing suddenly, Harry hid the snapping of his fingers behind fake choking, getting the briefest glimpse of the corner of Malfoy's expensive looking cloak bursting into flames before the lift went up out of sight.

"I'm sorry," he apologised when Madam Bones shot him an unbelieving look, "It's just, that was _awesome_ ".

"I know," the woman agreed with a smirk as she touched her wand to the DMLE crest on the lift and cleared her throat. "I want two aurors down in level ten immediately. Apprehend anyone who tries to pass without proper authorisation," she instructed, her voice sounding metallic and echoey as the lift started to rise up, with the echoes of her words still bouncing around inside it. "That should stop Malfoy from trying to get in again, Mister Potter," she promised him as she started to lead him down the hall and then down a flight of stairs.

"I have to enter through another door," Madam Bones said when they stopped in front of a black iron door with the number '10' carved in gold into the metal. "When this vibrates, the trial has started and you are to enter," she explained as she tapped a small pin with her wand and handed it over, "I'll see you soon, good luck".

And with that he was alone, Madam Bones hurrying back down the hallway as Harry looked down at the small bronze eagle broach in his hands. It looked expensive, more so than anything Harry had ever touched before, and definitely more so than any of his belongings – excluding maybe only his Firebolt and invisibility cloak. Frowning at it as something caught his eye, he brought it closer to his face and squinted, taking in the sight of small Latin words carved into each of the eagle's wings, the letters themselves shifting and moving every time Harry tried to translate them. All but the word ' _Bones_ ' that was carved across the bird's chest.

Realising suddenly that this belonged to Madam Bones, Harry immediately cupped it in his hands carefully, not wanting to drop it and possibly break a family heirloom.

Almost doing exactly that when it started vibrating out of nowhere, Harry moved forward and quickly opened the door to the tenth courtroom, stepping inside as he slipped the broach into his jacket pocket before promptly gasping at the room before him. The entire courtroom was made of a dark – almost black – stone with the occasional torch sconce set around the room to dimly illuminate it. At the far end of the room sat what Harry was assuming to be the Wizengamot in high seats, while lower benches ran along the sides still towering over the lowered centre of the room.

It was the same courtroom that Harry had watched the Ministry sentencing Death Eaters in, right down to the single chair covered in chains.

"You're late".

Glancing at his watch before he could help himself, Harry raised an eyebrow at the time, before glancing up at the man who'd spoken. The Minister, who had dispersed with his usual green bowler hat and was now glaring straight at him.

"With all due respect Minister, no I'm not," he replied, remembering Madam Bones' instructions to be polite and formal at all times. "I'm actually early".

"Take your seat," the Minister ground out, making Harry eye the chains on the chair cautiously.

After glancing up at the Wizengamot and noticing Madam Bones sitting to Fudge's left, Harry sat obediently, knowing she would have argued if they were going to bind him to the chair. And like he suspected, the chains clinked threateningly when he touched them but didn't move, leaving him to sit on the highly uncomfortable chair and look up at the gathered Wizengamot who were wearing a seemingly patternless combination of plum-coloured robes and the same black formal ones Madam Bones was wearing.

"Very well, now that the accused is present – finally – let us begin? Are you ready?" Fudge asked, peering over his desk to the person sitting below him.

"Yes sir!" piped up Percy Weasley, Harry blinking in shock for a moment as the red-haired young man turned to fix Harry with a glare just as dark as the Minister's.

"Excellent. Disciplinary hearing of the twelve of August," said Fudge in a ringing voice, Percy immediately beginning to write down what the man was saying. "Into offences committed under the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery and the International Statue of Secrecy by Harry James Potter, resident at number four, Privet Drive, Little Winging, Surrey".

"Interrogators: Cornelius Oswald Fudge, Minister for Magic; Amelia Susan Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement; Dolores Jane Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister. Court Scribe, Percy Ignatius Weasley-"

Someone cleared their throat loudly and Fudge froze, turning to stare intently at the woman to his left, Madam Bones leaning forward to whisper – loud enough for the entire room to hear – "The defence, Minister?"

"Mr Potter was not provided with one," Fudge said with an evil sniff (Harry didn't even know people _could_ sniff evilly). "It is not the Ministry's duty to provide the guilty with a defence. If he did not bring his own then-"

"He did".

Jumping slightly and twisting about as the courtroom door slammed shut behind his chair, Harry watched as a dark-haired woman strode down the aisle with a file tucked in her arm and scowled over her glasses at the Wizengamot.

"Scribe! Take note, Mr Potter's Witness for the Defence is one Shirley K. Homes," the woman snapped, wielding a posh English accent as easily as Professor McGonagall wielded a Scottish one. "Chief Interrogator, please proceed".

Eyes jumping straight to Madam Bones, Harry relaxed when he saw the woman wink at him subtly, the Head of the DMLE inclining her head towards Ms Homes.

"Yes well, the charges. Ah, the charges," Fudge stuttered searching for a piece of parchment on his desk. "The charges against the accused are as follows: That he did knowingly, deliberately and in full awareness of the illegality of his actions, having received a previous written warning from the Ministry of Magic on a similar charge, produce a Patronus Charm in a Muggle-inhabited area, in the presence of a Muggle, on the second of August at twenty-nine minutes past nine at night. Proceeding this, the accused then once again knowingly, deliberately and in full awareness of the illegality of his actions, produce two counts of the Stunning Charm in a Muggle-inhabited area, in the presence of and _on_ a Muggle, on the ninth of August at fifteen minutes past nine in the morning".

"Both charges constitute as offences under Paragraph C of the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery, 1875, and also under Section 13 of the International Confederation of Warlocks' Statue of Secrecy".

As Fudge stopped to take a breath, adjusting his glasses and beginning to glare in Harry's direction again, Ms Homes let out a rather loud humming noise, shaking her head and tutting to herself as she opened her file and looked at the first piece of parchment there.

"Is there a problem, Ms Homes," Fudge ground out, looking like he'd swallowed a particularly sour lemon.

Ms Homes hummed again, "What were those charges again?" the woman questioned, looking up over her glasses with an unimpressed expression. "Scribe?

"You _heard_ the charges that I just declared," Fudge snapped, pausing and taking a moment to collect himself.

"Well yes, but I _must_ have heard wrong, since my client hasn't been accused of committing _either_ offence," Ms Homes explained with a wide disarming smile that showed off her shining teeth. "Are you sure you have the right parchment, Mister Minister?"

Fudge's scowl turned into a glare just as deadly as the one he'd fixed Harry with earlier. "I'm sure," he snarled, "Now would you stop wasting my time and-"

"Court! I would like to present the Minister with his first warning," Ms Homes interrupted, "As per the Wizengamot Charter of Rights I am allowed to challenge the charges against the accused without the Interrogators trying to force me to stand down".

"Warning accepted," Madam Bones declared loudly, picking up a gavel and banging it once, levelling a warning look at Fudge when the man glared at her. "You were saying, Ms Homes".

"Right, as I was saying, my client has been accused of _neither_ offence," Ms Homes continued with a simple nod. "I have here copies of the transcripts for both incidents and both of them show the cases have been _closed_ ".

"THEY ARE NOT!"

"They are _so_ ," Ms Homes corrected the puce-faced Minister. "The incident where my client allegedly cast the Patronus Charm has been closed by the Ministry and has been passed on to the I.C.W on the grounds of it being a matter for Internal Affairs. And my client just came from Madam Bones' office where he was found not guilty of casting two counts of the Stunning Charm after the actual casters and key witnesses came forward to provide both memories and sworn statements. This case was closed as well, Mr Minister. This trial is a waste of my client's, and the Wizengamot's time".

"Well then," Madam Bones said simply, Harry watching in awe as she just stood up and picked up her gavel again. "The case of the Ministry vs Harry James Potter has been closed," she declared, banging the gavel loudly as Fudge just spluttered in dumb shock. "Next on the itinerary for today, the case of Harry James Potter vs Dolores Jane Umbridge".

As Fudge's spluttering only got worse, Harry did his best to hide his grin, glancing over at Ms Homes who just winked at him innocently with an amused twinkle in her eyes.

" _Hem hem_ ," came a noise from the shadows to the right of the Minister, a woman leaning forward into the light and making Harry's eyes widen at his first glance of Dolores Umbridge.

She most certainly wasn't anything like he expected, he had expected maybe an older dignified woman, or perhaps a woman like Percy who was young and ruthless in her desire to get promoted. What he _hadn't_ expected, was some kind of hybrid child of a large pale toad and a hag to be sitting there, her eyes bulging with fury as her mouth thinned dangerously.

"I'm sure I must have misunderstood you, Miss Bones," she said, with a high-pitched girlish voice instead of the croak that Harry had been half-expecting. "But for a teensy moment there, it sounded as if you were suggesting that this _boy_ had a case against the Ministry!"

"Oh do forgive me then, Madam Undersecretary," Madam Bones replied coldly, peering around the pale Fudge to stare at Umbridge. "What I said was, 'Harry James Potter vs _Dolores Jane Umbridge_ ', not the Ministry".

"Before we do that," Ms Homes piped up, "Could we perhaps deal with my client's case against the Ministry of Magic? You _did_ , after all, illegally change the time of his hearing without his written and verbal permission".

"But I- uh- er- but! Dolores! I mean Madam Umbridge was the one to arrange the change in the trial's time," Fudge blurted, Harry biting down on his tongue to hide his snort of laughter at the look on Umbridge's face as her head snapped around to stare at the Minister in betrayal. "Not the Ministry!"

"Very well then, my client suggests making this case 'Harry James Potter vs Dolores Jane Umbridge representing the Ministry of Magic," Ms Holmes offered without even a word from Harry.

"Understood and accepted," Madam Bones agreed, "Here we have the case of Harry James Potter vs Dolores Jane Umbridge representing the Ministry of Magic". Banging her gavel again, the woman turned to peer around the Minister again, "Madam Umbridge, if you wouldn't mind moving over to the Defendant's chair?"

Jolting in shock as the chair he was sitting in moved suddenly, Harry watched with his mouth open as his chair rolled across the floor to sit on the left side of the room while another matching chair appeared on the right side for Umbridge.

"Madam Umbridge," Madam Bones piped up when the toad-like woman went an angry red and refused to move, "If you do not take your seat on your own, I _will_ call the aurors down here and force the issue".

Smiling innocently at Umbridge as the woman obeyed stubbornly, the look in her eyes just as feral as the one Harry's Uncle had sent him when he'd burnt the man's hand around a week again, Harry watched as she sat down unhappily in the chair without looking away from him once. Oh yeah, he could totally believe that this was the woman who sent dementors after him and tried to get him expelled illegally, he imagined that if she could get away with it she'd draw her wand and cast a Killing Curse on him in a heartbeat. He didn't know _why_ she would, but he could tell she wanted to.

"Let this trial begin," Madam Bones announced, banging her gavel once more. "Minister Fudge, if I may be so bold, but perhaps you should surrender your seat," she suggested, the strength in her voice and the way she controlled the room making Harry realise why she was the Head of the DMLE. "You are the Defendant's direct employer, and as such you are a biased Interrogator," she continued as the sweating man began to argue, "If you refuse you will be held in contempt of the law and tried alongside her. That is the law".

"L-laws can be changed," Fudge countered, trying to puff his chest out to look big.

"Then perhaps abuse of power and treason instead of mere obstruction of justice?" Madam Bones suggested, making all the metaphorical wind leave the Minister's sails.

"Why yes, yes perhaps you're right," Fudge agreed quickly, going a sickly pale as he hurried to leave Madam Bones alone in the Interrogator's chairs, until two men silently stood and shuffled over to sit in the flanking chairs, as the Head of the DMLE took the centre chair.

Clearing her throat after nodding to both men, Madam Bones gestured to Percy and glanced down at the parchment before her. "Now begins the inquiry into Dolores Jane Umbridge representing the Ministry of Magic, under the charges levelled against her by the Accused; Harry James Potter".

"Interrogators: Amelia Susan Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement; Rufus John Scrimgeour, Head of the Auror Office; Poss Idoon, Head of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Court Scribe, Percy Ignatius Weasley," Madam Bones listed, sounding like she was just reading from a copy of the _Daily Prophet_ , unlike Fudge who'd sounded robotic.

" _Hem hem_ ".

Madam Bones paused and peered over the desk at Umbridge, who'd finally torn her gaze away from Harry to glare up at her instead. "Yes?"

"I demand a Witness for the Defence, as is my right," Umbridge demanded coldly, smirking at Madam Bones when the woman merely blinked.

"It is not the Ministry's duty to provide the guilty with a defence," Madam Bones denied, smirking back at her smugly when Umbridge and Fudge both shifted uncomfortably. "If you did not bring your own, then you must represent yourself".

When Umbridge just crossed her arms and glared, Madam Bones glanced over the parchment on her desk and cleared her throat once more. "The charges are as follows: That she did knowingly, deliberately and in full awareness of the illegality of her actions, commit fraud against one Harry James Potter. That she did knowingly, deliberately and in full awareness of the illegality of her actions, attempted two counts of committing obstruction of justice. That she did knowingly, deliberately and in full awareness of the illegality of her actions, attempted two counts of interfering with an official trial".

"I OBJECT!"

"And," Madam Bones continued, sending a warning look down at Umbridge, "That she did knowingly, deliberately and in full awareness of the illegality of her actions, attempted two counts of murder," she finished to a barrage of whispers. "Do you object to these charges, Madam Umbridge?"

"I do," the toad-woman responded, turning to glare at Harry for a moment, "Potter is merely trying to distract the Wizengamot from his own crimes".

"Mr Potter has been cleared of all charges after he was found innocent," Ms Homes interrupted, rearing back to say more only to go silent as Madam Bones cleared her throat.

"As out of place as her words were," the woman began slowly, "They were correct. Harry James Potter was cleared after evidence was given to prove that he had committed none of the crimes of which he was accused".

"Neither have I," Umbridge sneered out, "And I am prepared to invoke the Wizengamot Charter of Rights, if I must".

"As is my client," Ms Homes cut in, shutting Umbridge up immediately, "Chief Interrogator, may we continue?"

"Yes, we may," Madam Bones agreed, "Ms Homes, if you would call forth your first Witness?"

As his 'lawyer' smirked, Harry watched in shock as the familiar face of Mafalda Hopkirk entered the room and replaced him in his chair, leaving him sitting in the stands as a scowling auror, a nervous looking man in pink robes and a steel-faced woman in a simple golden dress-robe lined up behind Madam Hopkirk.

"I am willing to give memories and take Veritaserum to confirm my testimony," Madam Hopkirk stated immediately, causing a wave of murmurs to erupt throughout the gathered Wizengamot.

"I hope that will not be necessary, Madam Hopkirk," Ms Homes dismissed with a wave of her hand, "Can you confirm that you work for the Improper Use of Magic Office?"

"Yes, I can".

"Can you confirm that you have issued a violation notice to Mr Harry James Potter for the use of a Hovering Charm in the year of 1992?" Ms Homes questioned, pulling a letter from her file which she handed to Madam Bones who levitated it over to Madam Hopkirk.

"Yes, I can".

"Thank you. Now can you confirm that you have issued a violation notice to Mr Harry James Potter for the use of a Patronus Charm in the year of 1995?" Ms Homes continued, handing the next letter to Madam Bones who once again checked it and passed it along to Madam Hopkirk.

"No, I can't," the woman replied after a mere glance at the letter, causing another rumble of murmurs and muttering to erupt through the Wizengamot members. "This is not my signature, nor was I working on the 2nd of August," she added absently, "My Department Head can confirm this".

"Chief Interrogator, if you would replay the letter?" Ms Homes requested, making Madam Bones take the letter back and touch her wand to it, Madam Umbridge's overly sweet voice echoing through the courtroom. "Do you recognise this voice at all, Madam Hopkirk?"

"Yes, I believe it to be the voice of the Madam Undersecretary".

"I object! Voices can be faked through use of magic!" Umbridge interrupted immediately, Harry grinning when he noticed the sheen of sweat on her face.

"Not in the Improper Use of Magic Office," Madam Hopkirk corrected calmly, "Our parchment comes is enchanted to prevent its destruction and to prevent unlisted spells from being cast on it. The Department of Mysteries came up with the enchantment themselves to prevent violators from claiming they received nothing from the Office".

Harry was once again treated to the sweet sound of the Wizengamot whispering among themselves, looking down on Umbridge in disgust and dislike. Perhaps Madam Bones had been wrong, perhaps Umbridge _would_ get tried fully as she deserved, maybe she had underestimated the Wizengamot's dislike for the woman herself.

As Madam Hopkirk was released from the chair to go sit at the opposite end of the stands to Harry, not glancing away from the Interrogator's stand, Harry watched as the scowling auror moved to sit in the chair. The auror being identified as 'Andrew Grant', he then went on to – under probing from Ms Homes – reluctantly confess that he had ferried Umbridge to and from Azkaban on the night that Harry had 'allegedly' been attacked by dementors.

After Auror Grant moved to sit by Madam Hopkirk, scowling all the while, the pink-clad wizard took the seat as well and uncomfortably moved his grey fringe out of his eyes.

"Mr Kent," Ms Homes began after the man's name was given, "Do you recall seeing Madam Umbridge at Azkaban on the day of the 2nd?"

"Ye- yes, I do".

"And what happened when you performed the mandatory role call that night at midnight?" Ms Homes asked.

"Two dementors were missing," Kent confessed, making another surge of whispers break out through the courtroom, "they have yet to be located".

"What happened next?" Ms Homes demanded.

"I sent a message through to the Ministry as protocol demands," Kent admitted, "The response came through from the Madam Undersecretary's office stating that they were accounted for".

Watching as Ms Homes pulled a _third_ letter from her file that was checked by both the Interrogators and Kent, Harry suck a look at Umbridge's face to see her looking smug about something, a sense of dread beginning to fill him as he recognised the look to be one of victory.

" _Hem hem_ ".

"Yes, Madam Umbridge?" Madam Bones asked unhappily.

"I fail to see any evidence regarding the accusations that I sent two dementors after Potter," Umbridge declared loudly, "All you have is his word they were sent after him, as clearly stated in my response to Mr Kent, the two dementors I called from Azkaban were reassigned to Auror Rowle in his search for a dangerous pack of werewolves. Will I get my chance to present him as a witness?"

"You will once the accused is finished," Madam Bones allowed, "But unless more definite proof is provided by Ms Homes, then both counts of attempted murder will be dropped from the list of charges as circumstantial evidence".

Oh… Well Madam Bones _had_ told him the full charges were unlikely to stick, she must have known that Umbridge would be able to get away with a simple 'Prove it' or she wouldn't have let it go so quickly. Harry didn't like it, but even he could admit that from his point of view the dementor argument _was_ rather thin.

As Kent was released to sit with the rest of the witnesses, Harry watched as the final one was called forward by the name of 'Sara Buss', the golden-robed woman sitting in the chair daintily with an annoyed sniff.

"My name is Sara Buss," the woman introduced before Ms Homes could speak, "I am the Head of the Department of Magical Law and Treaties. On the evening of the 2nd of August, Madam Undersecretary Dolores Umbridge entered my office and demanded I prepare a full Wizengamot trial for a simple case of Underage Magic. When I refused she threatened both my job and my family," she declared to the silent courtroom without any prompting. "Obviously I was forced to comply. This morning, she entered my office again and demanded I bring the trial forward one hour, when I explained to her that we needed both the Minister's and Mr Potter's approval to do so, she once again threatened my job and family in order to force me to do so. She then ordered my Department into silence towards Mr Potter over the time change and left. I contacted the Auror's Office and informed an auror who swore to take the information to Madam Bones immediately, something that apparently has not happened".

Silence echoed throughout the courtroom as the woman sniffed again and inspected her nails, "I would of course like to press charges against Madam Umbridge for her actions towards me," she added with a smirk.

"Thank you Ms Buss, you may join the other witnesses," Madam Bones said calmly, making the woman rise and sway over to sit with the others. "Madam Umbridge," she continued making the toa- woman perk up, "Can you present your witnesses to be questioned under Veritaserum?"

A dark look flashed across the woman's face. "No," she ground out coldly, Madam Bones merely nodding in response.

"Can you swear under Veritaserum that the charges against you are false?" Madam Bones requested.

And waited…

"Madam Umbridge, if you do not answer, your silence will be taken as a refusal and you _will_ be charged," Madam Bones warned.

And waited…

"Very well, if the Wizengamot would confer?" Madam Bones declared, turning to the men on either side and stating something strongly as a loud whispering buzz filled the air and the Wizengamot spoke in hushed conversations.

Standing up at Ms Homes' direction and taking the now-empty seat, Harry glanced over at Umbridge to find himself the recipient of a murderous stare, unable to prevent himself from winking at her in response.

"Those in favour of clearing the accused of all charges?" Madam Bones asked in a booming voice.

Heart pounding, Harry watched as one… two… four… _five_ hands rose in the crowd, including the Minister's, Madam Bones giving them all a quick glance over and a suspicious look.

"Those in favour of conviction?"

And then there were hands, all of them pointing straight up, more than Harry could count as Umbridge let out a furious noise in her throat beside him.

The sound of a gavel banging smashed through the room, Madam Bones smiling down at the shell-shocked Umbridge. "Dolores Jane Umbridge you have been found guilty of two counts of obstruction of justice, two counts of interfering with an official trial, and one count of fraud. As per the requirements for employment at the Ministry of Magic that one must not be convicted of a white-collar crime you are hereby released from duty at the Ministry of Magic. In addition to this you must pay a fine that will be determined at a later date by the Department of Magical Law and Treaties, as well as pay reparations towards Mister Harry James Potter that will also be determined by the Department of Magical Law and Treaties".

All of a sudden Harry felt that _something_ from before twisting in his chest, filling him with a sense of bad as Madam Bones paused and her lips twisted in disgust.

"Because of your position and… good deeds… here at the Ministry however, it has been decided that you will not face Azkaban for your crimes," she confessed coldly, "Instead you will be barred from ever procuring employment at the Ministry of Magic or at any subsidiary of the Ministry. That is all, so mote it be".

Madam Bones had barely just banged her gavel on the stand in front of her, before Ms Homes was stepping forward immediately. "Chief Interrogator? My client would like to request an Order against Ms Umbridge barring her from having any sort of contact with him, citing her crimes against him as just cause for concern of future attack," she said loudly.

Harry did? And should he have really been expected a 'future attack' from Umbridge? It certainly made sure that he should, he'd just cost her a job _and_ a lot of galleons after all. But still, what did Harry care? He'd just ruined the woman who'd tried to kill him, if she tried again then he'd just finish the job.

Madam Bones paused for a second before slamming her gavel once more, "Granted".

* * *

 **IGNITION**

* * *

 **If it wasn't already obvious from the above, I am no lawyer. Nor am I trained in the etiquette or procedures of a foreign country's laws let alone those of my own country. I did my best to try follow what I have seen in other fanfictions, so if there are any mistakes I apologise and will attempt to correct them, so long as they don't require a total rewrite of the above (if they do, take the explanation of 'Magic' and 'Wizards').**

 **And I won't lie, I was _really_ tempted to cut this chapter into two chapters of around 3k each, but I thought that was just treading too far into cruelty so decided to keep it as it is.**

 **Anywho! Next chapter is the last before Harry returns to Hogwarts! Shortly after that you'll be discovering exactly what Sirius was talking about regarding the 'King' and the 'Army', and Harry will be 'phoning home'. Exciting isn't it?**

 **Thank you to everyone who reviewed last chapter, you're all awesome.**


	12. Prophecies

"Harry, my boy".

"Come along, Mister Potter, we're not done yet".

Not hesitating to smirk over his shoulder at Dumbledore as he followed Madam Bones immediately, Harry hurried after the monocle-wearing woman as Ms Homes stepped after him to cut him off from the Headmaster.

"I would avoid antagonising him if I were you, Mister Potter," Madam Bones suggested, not even looking back at him to see him smirking in the first place. "He is after all your Headmaster".

"Right, sorry ma'am," Harry apologised sheepishly as he felt Ms Homes' disapproving stare burning into the back of his head.

"That was quite the gutsy move, Amelia," Ms Homes snapped bluntly as they stepped back into the silver lift to the DMLE, the woman casting a silence charm the moment the grille slid shut.

"It was worth it," Madam Bones dismissed with a wave of her hand as the other one pulled off her hat and tucked it under her arm. "You know what was at stake".

"I do," Ms Homes admitted unhappily, Harry standing between them awkwardly, "And if Umbridge had invoked the Wizengamot Charter of Rights, then legally you would have been _forced_ to give her time to prepare her defence. Consider yourself lucky, Mister Potter, that she didn't," the woman added, glancing down over her glasses at him.

"If she had the time to prepare a defence then we would have lost," Madam Bones explained when she caught sight of Harry's confused expression. "With such a high-ranking position as Umbridge held, getting permission to use Veritaserum would have been impossible, making it just as impossible to prove her defence false. You would have lost your case by default".

"But… that's not fair," Harry began.

"That's the Ministry of Magic," Ms Homes interrupted, cutting him off without a care. "Unfortunately I believe you'll need my services again, Amelia, I doubt this is the last we'll hear of the Minister".

Madam Bones just snorted, "'Laws can be changed'," she quoted, her lips twisting into a smirk. "What a fool, as if the I.C.W will allow that, the Minister is toeing the line with his little slander fest as it is".

As the two continued talking between themselves, Harry felt like they'd forgotten he was there, stepping back to lean against the wall of the lift slowly. He hadn't expected the magical equivalent of a restraining order, but like he'd realised earlier it was probably for the best that this restraining order was in place. He didn't hesitate to believe she'd have tried again if she'd gotten the chance. She'd lurked furious enough when Ms Homes had brought up his case against her, and if her first glare was bad enough to kill, then Harry imagined the look she'd given him after her sentence was announced would have sent him straight to the deepest darkest levels of Hell.

And then there was Dumbledore lurking around outside the courtroom waiting for him. Had the Headmaster truly believed he could have forced Harry to go with him? Merlin, he would have gone the opposite way to Dumbledore just to be spiteful if it weren't for Madam Bones snatching him up before the old man had the chance to.

"Come along Mister Potter".

Following the two women out of the lift and through the Auror Offices to Madam Bones' office, Harry let himself be directed into a seat as the women sat as well, waiting for one of them to say something as they made themselves comfortable.

"That man is one wrong answer away from being sphinx food," Madam Bones exhaled as she unclipped her Wizengamot robe and banished it to a hook on the wall, leaving her wearing a simple pantsuit instead of her earlier robes. "I can't wait to see him get eaten; something thanks to Mister Potter here I imagine I'll get a front row seat to. I don't think we could have done it without you".

"Done what?" Harry asked hesitantly, the way Madam Bones had worded making him suspiciously.

Madam Bones just fixed him with the same steely look she'd given the Minister back in the courtroom. "I think it is obvious that the current Minister isn't qualified to do anything but accept bribes from unsavoury characters," she stated bluntly, "Myself and some of the other department heads are looking to have him replaced with someone who cares about more than just their next pay check _before_ he runs Wizarding Britain into the ground".

"Oh sit down, Mister Potter," Ms Homes snapped as Harry surged up to his feet, "We're not talking about an armed coup here. We're looking to uphold the law, not break it".

"You used me," Harry argued, refusing to take his seat as he scowled at the unrepentant Madam Bones and Ms Homes. "You used me to take out Umbridge and Fudge".

"Hardly," Madam Bones dismissed with a wave of her hand, "As I would have explained had the trial time not been changed, you and I both wanted the same thing so it was logical to work together to achieve it".

"Then why did you stand up for me? Why not let me get expelled and _then_ take Umbridge and Fudge down for even worse crimes? Why would you tell me about the Order of the Phoenix if you didn't care?" Harry demanded, backing away from them both as Madam Bones drew her wand and flicked it past him at the door.

"This is not Hogwarts, Mr Potter," Madam Bones snapped, eyes narrowing warningly. "The real world doesn't believe that Gryffindors are good while Slytherins are evil. I helped you because it was my duty, because ever since I was a little girl I wanted to help people and do good, not because we're both Gryffindors. You were wronged, and I made it right, _that_ is why I helped you. As of now, our interests are aligned, and for as long as they remain that way I _will_ do what is within my power to aid you".

Pausing, the woman slipped her wand back up her sleeve and stood, moving over to place her hand next to one of the many framed pictures on the wall. "I gave you that information for two reasons, Mr Potter, the first being that while I didn't know your mother I _did_ know your father," she explained, Harry cautiously moving closer to see what was clearly a younger Amelia Bones standing beside a grinning James Potter. "We went through Auror training together and he saved my life more times than I remember. I felt I owed it to the man to do what I could to help you when you were clearly not being helped by those who claimed to be his friends. And the second reason?" Moving back to her desk and sitting down, Madam Bones folded her hands before her and smiled.

"My goals and the goals of Albus Dumbledore are _not_ aligned".

"So you used me to get to Dumbledore and because you were settling an old debt?" Harry questioned slowly.

"I guess you could say it like that," the Head of the DMLE admitted, "I prefer to think of it as taking advantage of an opportunity given. I would have done what I could for you either way; I just saw this as a good chance to get something out of it for myself while doing it".

Staring at the woman as he thought on her words for a moment, Harry just nodded stiffly. He didn't like it, the idea of being used, but Madam Bones was right about taking advantage when the chance arose. "You said you're not 'aligned' with Dumbledore?" he asked as he glanced over at Ms Homes as the woman left the office without a word.

"One thing I'm sure you already know about Albus Dumbledore, Mr Potter, is that he has plans within plans within plans," Madam Bones began carefully, choosing her words specifically. "I believe that he _is_ truly on the side of the light, but I believe he's a lot more... muted... a light than he claims to be".

"I fight for my people, I fight to help who I can and do as much good as I can do before I die," she continued, "I'm not sure what Albus Dumbledore fights for, but I can swear under Veritaserum that it's not the same thing as me". Madam Bones paused and glanced up at Harry as she leaned back in her chair, "Tell me, Mr Potter, what do _you_ fight for?"

Unbidden Harry's mind answered her question immediately, faces flashing through his mind before he even had time to stop and think about it. _His parents, James and Lily, and his godfather Sirius. The stuttering and bumbling Neville, the smart and awkward Hermione. The caring Mr and Mrs Weasley. The plotting Fred and George. The joking Seamus and Dean._ Were they really who he fought for? He knew he wouldn't hesitate to step in front of a curse for any of them, that he would fight for each and every one of them. But even Hermione who he hadn't spoken a single word to in the past couple of days? Was she still considered one of his friends and family even though Ron's face had been noticeably absent from the list?

"Auror Tonks will escort you from the Ministry," Madam Bones declared as she stood, leading a quiet thoughtful Harry from her office to where Tonks was already waiting for them. "Think on what I said, Mr Potter".

"Harry?" Tonks asked hesitantly.

"I don't want to talk about it," Harry interrupted immediately, "Let's just leave before Dumbledore tries to ambush me again".

* * *

 **IGNITION**

* * *

The kitchen of Grimmauld Place was deathly silent as Harry stumbled through the fireplace, the green flames of the floo system vanishing behind him as he brushed ash from his shoulders and straightened up.

Glancing around at all the expectant faces, Harry ignored them and met his godfather's eyes, Sirius sitting in the corner with a bottle of butterbeer pressed frozen against his lips. "I got off," he announced to the room, not looking away from his godfather who slumped back in relief as a cheer filled the room.

"Of course you did," Ron muttered darkly, scowling down at his own butterbeer as his mother clutched her chest and let out a happy noise, "You always get away with stuff".

"Madam Bones was able to prove that I didn't cast the Patronus Charm," Harry continued, speaking loudly so everyone would be able to hear him over the twins and Ginny singing what sounded like a war chant. "All the charges against me were dropped".

"I told you they would be, kid," Sirius said simply as Harry moved over to join him, holding out the cold butterbeer waiting beside him. "Amelia is a lot of things, but useless isn't one of them. One she gets something in her sights she'll never let go, she's a little scary that way".

Shrugging simply as he glanced over to where Mrs Weasley was struggling to calm the twins and Ginny down, Harry jumped up onto the table beside his godfather. "Umbridge got fired," he mumbled out of the corner of his mouth, "And I have a restraining order against her now, so she can't come anywhere near me".

"Of course she was," Sirius agreed, looking at Harry with a grin, "Like I said, Amelia isn't useless".

"Oh Harry dear," Mrs Weasley called as he took his first sip of his drink, "Don't drink that all right now, we're about to have lunch. And _no_ excuses from you please," she added as Harry opened his mouth to do just that, "I saw how little you had for breakfast and you _need_ a decent meal in you".

Still opening his mouth to argue, Harry faltered as he thought back to the faces he'd remembered in Madam Bones' office. Maybe he wasn't ready to just forgive everybody yet, but maybe just _maybe_ , he was ready to stop being angry at them all the damn time.

Exchanging another look with Sirius, he pushed himself off the side table and moved over to sit beside the grinning Fred (or George), making Mrs Weasley's face light up like a _lumos_ charm. He was actually rather hungry now that he thought about it, Mrs Weasley was right about him only having time for some dry toast that morning before sneaking out. Sirius could wait until later for a play-by-play of the trials, for now Harry just wanted to relax, feeling a tension he didn't know he was even carrying fade away as George (or Fred) elbowed him in the side with a wink.

Smiling thankfully up at Mrs Weasley as she dished a huge amount of mashed potato onto his plate, Harry reached for a cup to pour his butterbeer into only to knock the bottle over as the Weasley Matron said "I'm so glad that Albus was able to find that article in the Charter of Rights, there was no way they would convict you with the Headmaster defending you".

"Excuse me?"

Mrs Weasley just blinked in confusion, "Albus might have lost a few of his titles recently, but he's still a very influential man among the right sort of people," she explained, "I knew the moment he told us that your trial was in front of the Wizengamot that you'd be getting off, Dumbledore knows all the Wizengamot's laws inside and out".

"He _knew_?" Harry demanded, Mrs Weasley's face falling as he stood up. "He knew my trial was in front of the Wizengamot and he didn't tell me?"

"Well- well he _said_ he had told you," Mrs Weasley stuttered out.

"Well he lied!" he shouted.

"Well _I_ didn't," Mrs Weasley interrupted, putting one hand on her hip and pointing the potato-covered spoon at him warningly. "So if you want to be angry at someone, then be angry at the Headmaster, _not_ at me".

Staring at the red-haired woman in shock, Harry blinked dumbly for a moment. "Sorry," he mumbled, making Mrs Weasley nod happily and continue scooping out mashed potato onto an awkward-looking Sirius' plate.

"That's alright, Harry," Mrs Weasley dismissed into the quiet of the kitchen, "I understand".

"Is that why he was waiting outside of the courtroom? Because he was supposed to be my defence?" Harry asked slowly.

"You mean he wasn't?" Sirius asked as Mrs Weasley swapped the bowl of potatoes for some sausages. "How did you get off if Dumbledore wasn't there?"

"I had the trial in Madam Bones' office," he explained, making his Godfather nod in understanding. "We then went downstairs for the fake trial and a friend of Madam Bones acted as my defence".

"You had _two_ trials?"

Glancing at Hermione curtly, Harry almost told her to mind her own business, biting his tongue and instead forcing out a polite "The one in the courtroom was technically illegal so we needed the first one done formally".

"But… but that's illegal!" Hermione exclaimed with a frown, "They're not allowed to do that".

"The person responsible was fired and charged with fraud," Harry admitted as heads snapped around to stare at him in shock. "It's been dealt with".

"The Headmaster didn't say anything about _that_ ," Mrs Weasley murmured, the look on her face forcing Harry's eager silence. If he didn't know better, he'd say that Mrs Weasley wanted to use that fork her knuckles were whitening about on Dumbledore, and he honestly couldn't wait to see it happen.

"The Headmaster didn't say a lot of things," Harry muttered under his breath.

"Is that _really_ what all this is about?" Hermione demanded, her brows furrowing as she stared at him, teeth biting away at her bottom lip. "That we didn't say anything about the Order?"

"This is all about the fact that you chose to listen to Dumbledore over your friendship with me," Harry forced out, his own knuckles tightening around his fork. "I would have been fine with a 'I wish we could explain but we can't for security reasons, we'll tell you when you get here', but instead I got half-assed lies until you just stopped replying".

Watching from the corner of his eye as Hermione frowned down at her plate, teeth still working away at her lip as she thought, Harry returned his own attention to his lunch as Ginny tried to break the awkward silence by asking Sirius a question about Buckbeak.

"So, Harry, have you done all your homework?" Mrs Weasley asked as she sat opposite him at the table with her own plate. "Ron hasn't," she explained with a disapproving look towards her youngest son, "But Ginny and the twins finished theirs ages ago".

"Mine's done," Harry admitted slowly, "I had a lot of time to-"

All conversation cutting off again as green flames burst to life in the fireplace, everyone turned to watch as Dumbledore stepped out of the flames in a different set of Gryffindor-red robes to the dark blue ones he'd been wearing at the Ministry.

Mrs Weasley was right, Harry suddenly wanted to stab Dumbledore with his fork himself.

"Ah, Molly, it looks like I was right on time".

"Imagine that," Mrs Weasley said politely, her smile obviously fake, as the Headmaster conjured up a chair at the end of the table and settled in.

"It's been quite the age since I've had mash potatoes and sausages," Dumbledore said cheerfully, twinkling his eyes at Hermione who just clenched her jaw and turned to whisper something at Ginny beside her, the two of them engaging in a furious whisper battle.

"So Headmaster," Sirius began slyly, winking at Harry before leaning forward to look past him at Dumbledore. "To what do we owe the… pleasure… of this visit?"

"I'm just here to discuss the events of his trial with Harry," Dumbledore confessed, "But it can wait until this lovely meal is over".

"Why wait?" Harry interrupted as Mrs Weasley inhaled deeply to start talking, "Why not just talk about it now?"

"I think it's a conversation best held in private," Dumbledore dismissed.

"I disagree," Harry said with a smile, staring right at the Headmaster as the man faltered without looking up at Harry. "I think if we're going to have a discussion it should be right here right now".

"Now, Harry my boy".

"Yes, now," Harry agreed, elbowing Fred (or George) in the ribs when they choked on a snort beside him. "My schedule for the rest of the day is full".

Ignoring the way Dumbledore's eyes only came up to burn into the back of his head when Harry's dropped down to his plate to hide his smirk, he waited for the old man to say something, _anything_ other than the disapproving air he seemed to radiate.

"I insist-".

"So do I," Harry cut in again, eyes snapping up to meet Dumbledore's for a second before the man tore them away. Why _was_ the Headmaster doing that? Why was he refusing to look Harry in the eyes? Was he afraid that Harry would read his mind and find out all his secrets if they made eye contact or something?

Dumbledore stared past Harry to the wall behind him, the twinkle all but gone as the man's face went blank. "Ms Shirley K Homes is an untrustworthy woman," he finally announced, "I would suggest that you avoid all contact with her. And Madam Bones cannot be trusted, she is on the Minister's payroll, after all".

"You mean she can't be trusted because she's not on _your_ payroll," Harry shot back. "And to be honest, Professor, that's exactly why I trust her. She doesn't lie and keep things from me, so as far as I'm concerned I'll trust her word over yours".

"I only have your best interests at heart," the Headmaster began.

"You don't act like it," Harry snapped, turning to glare at the old man who was still looking above his head. "Everything you've done 'for me' has only made things worse!"

"I'm sorry you see it like that," Dumbledore began, "When you're older you'll understand".

"When I'm older, Voldemort would have killed me because _you_ didn't tell me anything!" Harry shouted, rising to his feet to glare down at the old man.

"As I told you those many years ago, you are not ready to hear the prophecy," Dumbledore corrected calmly, voice even as he placed his fork down on the table. "When I believe you are, _then_ I will tell it to you".

"And who do you think you are to decide when I'm rea- there's a prophecy about me?" Harry blurted, watching as Dumbledore froze up almost immediately at his words. "There's a bloody _prophecy_ about me and you didn't tell me?" he yelled as the Headmaster pushed his plate away and stood. "How dare you! How long have you know?"

Dumbledore refused to meet his eyes – not that he'd been doing so in the first place – and instead started heading towards the fireplace instead.

"What? You're just going to run away?" Harry demanded, only Sirius' fingers curling around his wrist stopping him from giving chase. "ANSWER ME!"

"You are _NOT_ ready!" Dumbledore shouted, back still facing Harry. "And will not be until I can trust you to act maturely about it".

"You're my Headmaster, nothing more. You have no right to hold anything from me, no right to play god over my life!" Harry spat as the man threw the floor powder into the fire. "Madam Bones was right about you," he added, watching the man freeze, "We fight for the Light. You don't".

Turning away from Dumbledore and starting towards the doorway, Harry wrenched his wrist free of Sirius' grasp and slammed the door behind him to stop people from following him up. How _dare_ Dumbledore keep something so big from him? Harry had the right to know about this 'prophecy', even if he wouldn't have believed prophecies to be real until his third year. And who did Dumbledore think he was to be able to decide something like that? He was nothing more than a dictator trying to control every aspect of Harry's life.

He wanted to hold the prophecy over Harry's head as some kind of bargaining chip for Harry's behaviour? Then fine, he could keep the blasted prophecy, it wasn't like Harry couldn't guess what it was about. It was about Voldemort, obviously, knowing Harry's luck it'd be a 'kill or be killed' kind of deal. Something that said it would be impossible for Harry to be free of the Dark Lord until one of them were dead. At least that's what he _hoped_ it was. A 'kill or be killed' prophecy was one thing, and it was ten times better than some of the other options he could think of, he remembered some of the prophecies mentioned in his divination book.

Harry could be destined to fall to Voldemort, destined to join him, or worse… destined to love him.

Shuddering at the mere thought of that last idea, Harry pushed it from his mind and joined a sleeping Hedwig in his bedroom, quietly shutting the door behind him. Maybe… maybe the prophecy was about something different? Snapping his fingers and conjuring a ball of fire as he sat on the edge of his (new) bed, Harry stared into the flames as he moved them from hand to hand with nothing but his mind. If the prophecy spoke of him having some kind of power, then that would explain why it was only Sirius who was curious about his so-called 'wandless magic'.

Did that mean that all his hiding of his flame was useless? No… Harry couldn't just assume that, not until Dumbledore himself confronted him about it directly.

Clenching his fist around the ball of fire as someone knocked on the door, Harry twisted around to watch as Sirius opened the door and slipped into the room. "I don't know the prophecy," the man said in greeting, "I know it exists but I don't know what it says. Even if I did, the oath I took when joining the Order prevents me from telling you".

"Why hasn't _he_ told me?" Harry blurted as his godfather moved over to sit beside him, "Even if he thought I was too young to know the actual words, he should have told me that there was one".

"It's not _that_ bad, Harry," Sirius began, making him turn to face his godfather and raise his eyebrow unbelievingly. "Okay it _is_ that bad," the dog animagus admitted seconds later, shrugging as he frowned down at the floor, " _Maybe_. We don't know much about prophecies in the first place, they're kept down in the Department of Mysteries for the Unspeakables to study, but not much has been discovered about them as far as I know. It's a bit of a lost magic, if I've ever heard of one".

"How… how would I find it out? What the prophecy says?" he asked slowly, leaning against his godfather's shoulder slowly.

"You don't," the man confessed, "Only the Unspeakables have permission to see the prophecies. We think Albus has someone inside the Department of Mysteries, it's the only way he could have known about the prophecy, much less what it says".

"Great," Harry muttered, scrunching his face up as he stood and moved away from Sirius to approach the sleeping Hedwig. "Just great".

"Come on kid, stop worrying about it," Sirius suggested, not moving from the bed. "That's the thing about prophecies, they're going to happen anyway. Stressing and worrying about them isn't going to matter, there's a story I remember when I was growing up. A Muggle Lord asked a Sorceress to make him powerful, and with her help his kingdom flourished. All she asked of him was for his firstborn daughter to be named after her, except when he named his daughter – the Princess – something else, she cursed the little girl with a prophecy. Uh," Sirius paused and frowned for a moment, "I don't remember the exact words, but it was something along the lines of falling into an eternal sleep when she was sixteen after touching… I think it was a spinning wheel actually, unless she found true love's kiss. The daughter had _no_ idea about the prophecy and all spinning wheels in the Lord's land were destroyed and outlawed".

"And then, on the girl's sixteenth birthday, she just 'happens' to stumble across a spinning wheel and falls into an eternal sleep," he finished softly, "Then a wizard searching for his soulmate came across her, kissed her and woke her up. He defeated the Sorceress in a duel, married the Princess, end of story. The moral of the story? Is that prophecy cannot be thwarted. If it's meant to happen, it'll happen so stop worrying about it".

Harry just snorted, "That sounds like the muggle fairy tale of 'Sleepy Beauty'," he pointed out, not sure if his godfather would know of that story.

"Yeah, well it's just an old story, nobody knows if it's true or-"

"Sirius?" Harry pressed when the man froze, "What's wrong?"

"Finish your homework," Sirius ordered as he launched himself to his feet, "I have to go to find a book".


	13. Trains

**Ignition** **-** Harry Potter.

 **Last Episode:** _"Yeah, well it's just an old story, nobody knows if it's true or-"_

" _Sirius?" Harry pressed when the man froze, "What's wrong?"_

" _Finish your homework," Sirius ordered as he launched himself to his feet, "I have to go to find a book"._

* * *

 **IGNITION**

* * *

"Ah ha!"

Coughing slightly as he pulled the book from the shelf, Sirius Black blew away the dust covered it and dropped it down on the desk he'd cleared off, staring down at the dark blue cover as his fingers reached out to brush across the symbol on the front.

It'd been so long since he'd seen this book, he'd honestly believed his mother had burned it just to spite him when he'd fled to live with James, just to ruin the memories he had of his grandfather reading from it for him and Regulus when they were just children. Sirius wouldn't put it past his mother to do something like that, she had always been a cruel heartless hag.

Cracking the book open and scanning the table of contents, he sighed and started skimming through the book listlessly. Harry was on the way to Hogwarts right now, he'd agreed not to go see his godson off purely because Harry had assured him it was fine, and in a way he was glad that it gave him the chance to continue his search. He was so close; Sirius could just feel it.

He _knew_ it was this book, it hadn't been the other four possibilities so it had to be this one. He just had to find that story first, which would be easier said than done, because once he found the story only _then_ would he be able to continue his search for more information for his godson.

He'd let Harry down so much already, chasing after Wormtail instead of taking Harry himself, letting Wormtail escape two years ago instead of taking Harry and just running. He wouldn't fail him again, not if he wanted to be able to look at himself in the mirror ever again, not if he-

Freezing as he stared down at the familiar drawn illustration, Sirius let his fingers trace the lines absently before slowly tearing his eyes from it to the title of the story opposite. "Oh Harry," he exhaled in fear, the memories coming rushing back to him with the force of a charging hippogriff, "This is bad".

Pushing himself to his feet, Sirius looked around the library before getting back to work. If any library could have more information on dark magic than the Black family library, then it would have to be the Department of Mysteries or the library of his 'beloved' cousin Malfoy. He'd find more information for Harry, his godson was going to need it.

"This is _really_ bad".

* * *

 **IGNITION**

* * *

"It's called ' _The Quibbler_ ', Daddy owns it".

Barely pausing to exchange a glance with an equally confused Neville, Harry reached out to accept the magazine Luna Lovegood was holding out to him.

"Uh thanks," he mumbled hesitantly as the blonde pulled out another copy from her handbag and started reading.

He hadn't been sure of what to expect when Ginny led him and a lost-looking Neville into the same compartment as the girl she'd called 'Loony Lovegood', but now that he thought about it her name definitely gave it all away.

"Your friend might like it if you don't want to read it," Lovegood added absently, not pulling her head out of her copy of the Quibbler. "The one with the mane," she clarified when Harry glanced at Neville in confusion, "The smart one".

"Oh yeah, Hermione. Probably will," Harry agreed quickly, "I'll give it to her when she gets back from her prefect meeting".

 _If_ she came back from the prefect meeting, while Hermione had definitely been less cold around Harry after her little revelation in the kitchen those two long weeks ago, she obviously wasn't ready to accept him as he now was. And he had been quite bluntly informed by Ron that he wasn't going to be forgiven until he publicly apologised to the red-haired boy, because Ron starving his owl – albeit accidentally, the boy's time having been capitalised by Mrs Weasley's cleaning mission – was something that _Harry_ needed to apologise for.

Not that he had any intention of apologising to anyone – aside from Mrs Weasley who'd been surprisingly understanding – any time soon.

Glancing down at the flashing and changing words on the magazine's cover, Harry tilted it towards Ginny and Neville, showing them the cheerful _'Minister Denies Working for Extra-Dimensional Beings'_ title. As Ginny muffled a giggle into the palm of her hand, he flicked open the magazine to the contents page, grateful that Lovegood wasn't looking as he grinned openly at the names of some of the articles. No offence to Luna Lovegood or her father, but Harry got the idea that Hermione wouldn't use this magazine for more than fuel in the Gryffindor tower fireplace, and he hadn't even read more than the article names.

"So Harry," Neville began hesitantly as the silence dragged on, "What did you do for your birthday?"

Harry blinked. The Dursleys had gone to see a movie, and then they had gone to the most expensive restaurant in Little Whinging after buying Dudley the latest version of the gaming console he played on. On the flip side of the coin Harry had been locked in his bedroom because the Dursleys hadn't wanted him 'destroying' the house while they were gone, thankfully they'd only used the original lock so Harry had been able to use a makeshift lockpick to get out (like the Twins had taught him after their rescue mission before second year) and have a proper meal.

"Not much really," he dismissed slowly, "What about you?"

Neville lit up excitedly. "Guess what I got?" he said quickly, Harry's fellow Gryffindor looking like he could keel over from excitement anytime soon.

"Another Remembrall?"

"No, although I _could_ use another one," Neville admitted sheepishly, "I put it down somewhere and I can't remember where. This year my Great Uncle Algie got me _this_!" he exclaimed, pulling a grey little cactus in a pot out of his bag. "It's _Mimbulus mimbletonia_ ," he announced proudly, cradling the pot against his chest carefully, "It's really, really rare".

It was also really, really ugly, Harry thought. The grey was the same colour that fruit turned when it went rotten, and instead of spines like a normal cactus it was covered in huge pulsating boils. All in all, it looked like some kind of sick diseased organ, and not at all like something Harry would want to put in his garden. Neville seemed to think it was beautiful though, if the look on his face was any indication, then again Harry's friend was an aspiring herbologist so maybe he saw something golden in the ugly plant. Still, Harry was quite happy to keep it as far away from him as he could get it, there was no justification for having it _pulsate_ like that, it was just wrong.

"Does… does it do anything?" Ginny asked hesitantly.

"Yeah! It does tonnes of stuff!" Neville agreed eagerly, shoving Trevor into Harry's hands suddenly. "It's got an amazing defensive mechanism, hold on," he murmured as he searched through his bag again to pull out a quill. "Watch this," he said slowly, tongue sticking out between his teeth as even Luna Lovegood's eyes peered over the cover of her magazine curiously, "Three… two… one".

Jabbing the plant roughly with the pointed edge of his quill, Harry barely managed to clamp his eyes and mouth shut as a thick gooey green liquid promptly exploded from every single boil on the cactus to spray all over the room. Oh Merlin… the gunk was _warm_.

"Sorry," Neville rasped out as Harry heard a disgusted spitting sound from Ginny's corner of the compartment, "I didn't think it would be so… don't worry, Stinksap isn't poisonous, I think. I've never tried that before, sorry?" he tried again as Harry dropped Trevor onto the seat between them and tried to wipe the 'Stinksap' from his face as best as he could. "Sorry? Uh here".

Sitting still as he felt a cloth being rubbed over his face, Neville trying to make up for his mistake, Harry hesitantly opened his eyes only for them to water immediately at the sheer stench of the aptly named Stinksap. "I hate you," he said seriously as he grabbed the cloth off Neville and wiped his mouth off, "I _really_ hate you".

"Sorry?" Neville offered.

"Harry, I- oh… is this a bad time?"

"Err," was all Harry could say as every head in the compartment turned to stare at Cho Chang, the beautiful girl standing in the doorway looking at them all like they'd just climbed out of a slimy lake somewhere to terrorise the local campers.

The girl shrinking back as Ginny moved, Harry watched as she stepped back out of the compartment and offered him a forced smile as he imagined the stench reaching her nose, "I just wanted to say 'Hi', so uh hi? I should go".

As the door shut behind Cho, Harry stared at it in shock. That… that hadn't gone how he'd planned it to go at _all_. Harry would have hoped that Cho could have walked in them laughing at some cool joke someone had made, instead he was covered head to toe in Stinksap surrounded by an equally covered Ginny, Neville and Luna. Okay sure, Neville and Ginny were cool people by his own standards, but the situation was far from what he would have _ever_ wanted anyone to catch him in.

"Oh I give up!" Ginny exclaimed suddenly, " _Scourgify_! _Scourgify_!"

Breathing in a sigh of relief as the Stinksap vanished immediately, Harry gagged for a moment before pulling out his wand and quickly casting an air freshening charm to clear the air enough to breathe properly. "Neville," he began slowly, the boy flinching away from him and shifting his grip on the cactus as if to protect it from Harry, "Never do that again".

"Right. Sorry?"

"That was fun," Luna piped up suddenly, making the three of them exchange silent looks again.

"Still…" Neville said awkwardly, "Not even Hogwarts has a _Mimbulus mimbletonia_ , I can't wait to show Professor Sprout. We might even be able to breed it".

"That's great, Neville, it really is," Harry agreed simply. He may hate the plant on equal terms with Draco Malfoy now, but at least Neville was enjoying it. "How long do Prefect meetings normally go for?" he added, glancing towards the door that had remained shut behind Cho.

"Percy said they lasted around an hour or something," Ginny explained. "He was always so smug that he got to take minutes for the full hour, like there's no such thing as a Dicta-Quill that writes down exactly what everyone around them says," she muttered with a roll of her eyes before pausing to study Harry. "But if you're waiting for Hermione and Ron to show up you might be disappointed. Ron's… well Ron's Ron, the only person more stubborn than him is Mum. And Hermione doesn't know what to think, and since this isn't something she can look up in the library…"

"She'll want to be alone while she tries to rationalise an answer," Harry finished for her, "Hermione's been my friend for four years, I know her pretty well," he clarified when Ginny blinked at him in shock. "After the Yule Ball last year she would 'allow' me to sit beside her so long as I was dead quiet while she brooded over Ron's behaviour, I tried to tell her that he was just being a git but she was certain that there was some kind of rational explanation for everything".

"Well, I think she's beginning to realise that you were right," Ginny admitted quietly, leaning forward as if to tell him a secret. "At night we would talk, at first it was just me talking about things like Hogwarts but after you got there we talked about you a lot. I won't betray her trust by telling you everything, but I think she's beginning to understand what you've been saying since you came to visit".

That… that was good, Harry realised as Ginny leaned back in her seat and turned to strike up a conversation with Luna. He'd missed his best friend over the past two weeks, it didn't matter that they were both helping Mrs Weasley clean Grimmauld Place without magic, even when in the same group they weren't talking and Harry really missed having her around. And with Sirius trying to find something in the Black library, having to wage a cleaning war of his own against the dust, curses and sentient books in the library to find the single book he swore (rather crudely) had the information that Harry needed about his gift, Harry had been feeling more alone than ever. Ginny and the Twins were great to talk to, but he and Ginny only had Quidditch in common and the Twins were too dedicated to working on their joke products to be able to stop and talk to him. And Harry would never lower himself to try make conversation with Lupin or the other Order members, so they were right out.

Relaxing back into his chair as he watched Neville cooing softly over his mimbletonia and Ginny and Luna talking quietly to each other, Harry shuffled over so he was leaning against the corner and let his head fall back as his eyes drifted shut. He hadn't gotten much sleep last night, he and Sirius had brought a crate of butterbeer up to his godfather's room and Harry had been treated with stories of Sirius' own fifth year. While tales of the Marauder's pranks had gotten repetitive quickly, Harry had soaked up the stories of his father's many attempts to win over his mother, he loved listening to stories about his parents and thankfully Sirius loved telling them. It had been two in the morning when Mrs Weasley finally crashed their little 'party' and ordered them both of them to bed, Harry being too tired to argue as the Weasley Matriarch promised to wake them both up in time to get ready to catch the train.

He'd dreamed of his parents last night, well more nightmares than dreams, every time he tried to reach for them they died in a flash of green light.

He hated sleeping sometimes.

* * *

 **IGNITION**

* * *

" _Tobias Fetch. You are under arrest for the murder of the Minister for Magic, Julius Baggins, and for the liberal use of dark magic both during the murder and not"._

 _Sneering, the red-haired man backed away from the Aurors, hands empty as he clenched them at his sides. "I didn't kill anyone, Victor, and I can give the memories to prove it!" he shouted, "Can_ you _give memories though Victor?" Tobias continued smugly, "You_ are _the only so-called witness to my apparent crime after all"._

" _I will not allow you to spread your lies, Tobias," 'Victor' snapped, Harry blinking in shock at the similarities he could see between the two men who looked as if they were brothers. "You have murdered the Minister, and you must pay for your crime"._

" _You mean_ you _murdered the Minister and I'm just the unlucky person you're blaming for it?" Tobias countered, betrayal burning through Harry's chest at his words._

 _Victor blinked. "Well yes," he admitted simply, none of the Aurors batting an eye as they kept their wands trained on Tobias, "Baggins was not fit to lead us, he had to be replaced. And you're the perfect scapegoat, your lot have too much power, you're beyond the law and things cannot be allowed to remain that way whether you are truly 'Chosen by Magic' or not. It's nothing personal, brother, but I cannot have you ruining everything that I have set out to do"._

 _Looking around slowly at the interior what seemed to be an expensive house, Harry watched as Tobias let out a dark snort and strode around the divan, glancing over the gathered Aurors and his traitorous sibling. "How many men did you bring?" he asked slowly, "I only count fifteen, and_ surely _you know that fifteen men and yourself have no chance of killing me. And I do assume you aim to kill me, since bringing me before a trial would only allow 'my lot' to take over and ensure it to be fair"._

" _You are an extremely dangerous fugitive from justice, I have been authorised to use_ any _means necessary to ensure you're dealt with," Victor confessed with a smirk, "There's no spell that the Ministry would deem… Unforgiveable… if I were forced to use it on you. Now surrender, and make this easier on yourself"._

 _Tobias let out a humming noise as Harry watched him unclipping his cloak and dropping it to the floor, already knowing that Tobias would stand and fight to his last breath rather than let his brother win. "How about, no," the man deadpanned._

Snap.

 _As a fiery explosion tore through the middle of the gathered Aurors, Tobias moved immediately, dodging out of the way of the counter-attack even as fire flew from his raised hand in a beam. His eyes glowing a bright orange-red as pained screams filled the air, another explosion erupted with a snap of the man's hand, the far wall flying apart under the force as Tobias dove into the smoking hole without hesitation. Conjuring a massive fireball between his hands as he ran into what seemed to be a bakery, Tobias whirled around and hurled it through the hole to incinerate the Auror that tried to follow him through. The fire spreading into the wooden building easily, the red-haired man didn't hesitate to aim his fireballs and explosions to kill the traitorous Aurors, ignoring the screaming muggles as they ran._

" _AVADA KEDAVRA!"_

 _A scream catching in Harry's throat, he watched as the green light of the Killing Curse leapt through the hole in the wall as Tobias tried to flee the bakery, striking the door and causing it to explode, Harry gasping in pain as a shard of wood embedded itself in Tobias' stomach and a matching sensation stabbed through his body._

 _As the red-haired man limped out of the bakery and collapsed to the ground, fire burning across his shoulders just like Harry's fire could do, Victor followed him with his wand aimed straight at his injured brother's heart. "You killed the Minster!" the man shouted, clearly playing it up for the terrified crowd, "You killed the Minister! And now you must pay! AVADA KED-"_

 _The traitor was cut off as the ground beneath his feet shot up, a pillar of earth slamming into his stomach and throwing him back into the burning bakery, Harry spun around to see four hooded people approaching the downed Tobias through tear filled eyes. "Relax brother, it will all be over soon," a woman's voice assured him as he shook, fire burning the wooden stake to a crisp and allowing blood to pour freely from his stomach, Harry choking on a sob as pain spread through his body and he fell to his knees._

 _Swallowing to try clear the blockage in his throat, Harry froze as glowing fiery eyes locked onto his own and choked noises fell from Tobias' mouth as the dying man opened it to speak._

" _Calm yourself, brother," a man said, a dark-skinned hand extending from the robes of one of the hooded figures, gently smoothing down Tobias' messy hair._

" _London… will burn," Tobias rasped out, eyes not leaving Harry's._

"Harry?"

" _London will burn… for what they have done"._

" _Brother?" another woman asked, Harry realising it was too late to do anything as the pain bled away until he just felt numb._

"Harry?"

 _As Tobias went limp, the fire in his eyes going dark, the four figures exchanged silent looks before as one their heads raised to look in Harry's direction._

"HARRY!"

Eyes snapping open as he suddenly felt like he was falling, Harry was treated to a yelp of pain as he jerked forward and his hand hit something soft, his knees going limp as the earlier pain came back with a vengeance to seize at his stomach and cramp his muscles. Clutching at his stomach as he struggled to breath in, his throat feeling like it had closed off, he felt more than heard someone dropping to their knees in front of him.

Flinching as a hand came down on his back to rub gentle circles and another landed on his cheek to gently caress it with their thumb, he felt someone lean over to whisper in his ear. "It's okay Harry," the voice murmured as the gentle touches somehow helped him control his heaving shoulders, "It's okay. It was just a dream, you're safe now, you're awake now, the Striped Hypnohorns can't touch you anymore".

Focusing more on the voice than on the words themselves, Harry felt himself miraculously begin to calm down, the air coming easily into his lungs as he breathed deeply and glanced up to see Luna Lovegood kneeling before him as her hands moved from his back and check to rub at his upper chest. As Luna faltered for a split second, staring into his eyes in shock, Harry felt the burn of his powers shining in them, seeing the fiery reflection of his glowing irises in her silvery grey eyes. Shutting them immediately, he concentrated on controlling the fire as Luna started up her calming chant of "It's okay. It was just a dream, you're safe now, you're awake now, the Striped Hypnohorns can't touch you anymore," again.

Opening his normal green eyes as Luna's chant slowly died down into a wordless whisper, he forced a grateful smile onto his face and rasped out a sore "Thank you".

"I used to have terrible nightmares too," Luna explained softly, the rest of the compartment deathly silent as they kneeled opposite each other, "Mummy always did that for me, she would tell me that I was safe now that I was awake, because everyone knows that Striped Hypnohorns can only hurt you when you sleep".

"Striped Hypnohorns?" Hermione's voice asked dismissively, Harry flinching when he glanced over at his maybe-friend to see her hand covering her cheek where a small red mark was beginning to form. "There's no such thing as Striped Hypnohorns".

"Yes there are," Luna argued, glaring back at the bushy-haired girl. "Muggles call them 'Boogeymen', they trap you in your nightmares so they can feed on them. Mummy told me all about them," the blonde froze, "I saw a lot of them after Mummy died," she admitted quietly. After sending a look at Hermione that stopped her from commenting – although the expression on her face implied that she wasn't going to say anything anyway – Harry reached out for Luna only for the girl to push herself up to her feet suddenly. "I need to use the bathroom, excuse me," she declared pushing past Ginny and practically fleeing the compartment as Hermione looked after her guiltily.

"Are you okay Harry?" Neville asked after a moment's silence, "You were sleeping normally one moment, and then you just started making these noises".

"It was just a bad dream," Harry lied stiffly, forcing himself up off his knees and dropping back down onto his seat as Hermione sat beside Ginny. "That was all".

What _had_ that dream been? Was it anything like the one he'd had about the volcano and Cato? He'd not felt anything during that first dream, so why would he feel what he feared was Tobias' death during this one. The first dream hadn't left him with a throbbing ache deep in his chest, although Harry thought that might be because of his humiliating reaction and not the actual dream. Either way, he felt exhausted, both mentally and physically. And in all honesty he felt like he was one step away from just collapsing to the ground and crying, with everything that had happened to him recently he felt like he was owed at least one breakdown, especially since the anger that had staved off such a reaction in the first place had recently begun to dwindle.

"Harry… that wasn't 'just a bad dream'," Hermione corrected weakly, sounding like she wanted to say more but managing to bite her tongue. "Watching you like that, it was scary".

"I'm fine," Harry dismissed making Neville, Ginny _and_ Hermione raise their eyebrows in disbelief. "I'm just a little…"

"I had really bad nightmares after my first year," Ginny confessed when Harry didn't finish his sentence, "I woke up crying and it took Mum hours to get me back to sleep. I normally couldn't though, so she would take me downstairs and she would bake something while I sat there and watched until I felt okay again. There's nothing wrong with not being alright, Harry," she said simply, not sounding like she was trying to reassure him but like she was stating the facts. Hermione nodded in agreement with her and Neville tried to send him a strong nod of his head that looked more like the boy was afraid he was going to ruin the moment.

"Then I'm not alright," Harry admitted bluntly, "Just give me time".

And with that Ginny nodded, turning to ask Hermione a question about the Ancient Runes classwork, acting like nothing had just happened. Luna re-joined them after a while, her eyes suspiciously red but she didn't comment either, just smiled slightly at Harry and buried her nose in her copy of the Quibbler again. As Neville asked him a hesitant question about Care of Magical Creatures, Harry felt the tension in the air beginning to drain away.

He wasn't alright, but in time he'd be okay.

* * *

 **IGNITION**

* * *

"Where's Hagrid? I don't see him"

"Huh?"

Looking around the Great Hall for his friend – an action usually made unnecessary by the half-giant's large stature – Harry frowned as he realised that Hermione was right. Hagrid _was_ missing. He'd thought that the female Professor calling for the first years back at the platform was just a new thing, but something told him that she was replacing him even at the table as Harry realised their friend's huge sturdy chair had been swapped out with an ordinary looking chair with a very feminine cloak slung over the back of it.

"He hasn't _left_ has he?" Hermione asked nervously as Harry sat between her and Neville at the table, Ginny having joined her fourth year friends as Luna wandered off to Ravenclaw table.

"No, of course he hasn't," Harry denied with a snort. Hagrid would never leave Hogwarts, it was just as much his home as it was Harry's, and even if he had he still would have told him and Hermione before they showed up at Hogwarts to find him missing.

"Maybe he's hurt?" Neville suggested awkwardly, Harry catching him looking between his seat and where Ron was sitting by Seamus and Dean further down the table, as if the boy didn't believe that he had unknowingly replaced Ron in their little group.

"He would still be here," Hermione countered, "Remember second year? His arm was in that huge cast after he spelled that flesh-eating slug repellent on himself and he still made sure to show up every day. Oh! Maybe he's not back from his vacation yet?" she suggested thoughtfully, looking hopeful that that was all it was. "You know, how he said that Dumbledore had _ordered_ him to go spend some time in France with Madame Maxime?"

Harry stared for a moment before his eyes widened, "Oh! Right!"

"Hey look," Neville said as Harry exchanged a relieved look with Hermione, "Is that our new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor? I hope they're better than Lockhart". His eyes followed Neville's as Hermione let out a curious noise, and for the first time since his powers had manifested he felt his blood run cold.

Sitting at the staff table talking to the Headmaster, was Dolores Umbridge.


	14. Problems

**Ignition** **-** Harry Potter.

 **Last Episode:** _"Hey look," Neville said as Harry exchanged a relieved look with Hermione, "Is that our new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor? I hope they're better than Lockhart". His eyes followed Neville's as Hermione let out a curious noise, and for the first time since his powers had manifested he felt his blood run cold._

 _Sitting at the staff table talking to the Headmaster, was Dolores Umbridge._

* * *

 **IGNITION**

* * *

"But she _can't_ be here!"

"I know," Harry agreed.

"I thought you said you had a restraining order against her?"

"I do," Harry confirmed, it was in his trunk right now actually, Madam Bones had made sure to send him a copy of it so he knew the rules.

"But then how can she teach here?"

"No idea," Harry denied, looking at neither Hermione nor Neville who were standing in the doorway waiting for him.

"Are you going to go to Dumbledore?"

"Merlin no," Harry refused. He could trust Dumbledore as far as he could throw him without magic.

"Harry!"

"I'm owling Madam Bones," Harry defended, finally looking up from his scratching quill as he turned to face the scowling Hermione, "She'll be able to do something about this, she _has_ to be able to do something about this!"

"Can I get a restraining order against Professor Snape?" Neville asked aloud suddenly, making Harry freeze.

"Has Snape ever attempted to get your soul sucked out by dementors, then tried to expel you over it?" Harry asked bluntly, Neville paling a bit as he stared at Harry in shock. "There's no 'real' proof that she sent the dementors after me, but it's not a coincidence that she faked an expulsion over the Patronus Charm at that precise time out of all the spells she could have chosen. She then changed the time of my trial and put it before the full Wizengamot illegally, she was fired from the Ministry two weeks ago," he clarified when Neville didn't blink. "Madame Bones then passed a restraining order preventing her from coming near me or interacting with me in any way".

"Maybe not then," Neville mumbled, the sharp look Hermione sent him making Harry sigh.

"Sorry, he muttered slowly, turning away from his friends to continue writing his letter. "I'm just on edge, how can she even be here?" he asked the air, ignoring the soft calming hoot coming from Hedwig, his owl patiently waiting by the window.

"Maybe… maybe they found a loophole?" Hermione suggested thoughtfully, their professional distance temporarily on hold to deal with Umbridge. "In the fine print or the wording? Some kind of clause that allows her to breach the terms of the order in special circumstances, if she works in the same building as you maybe?"

Pausing mid-word in his letter, Harry dropped his head and groaned. "I didn't read the fine print," he admitted, "I started to but I got bored so I stopped after reading the part defining spell range. She's not allowed to be within spell range of me," he clarified when Hermione frowned, "Spells dissipate after a while, Sirius said it had something to do with the magic of the spell falling apart when travelling too far. She's not allowed to be within medium spell range of me".

"How far is that? Precisely?"

Harry shrugged, "Not as long as the Great Hall," he said thoughtfully, "But still long enough that if I sit too close to the middle of Gryffindor table she can't sit at the staff table. And _definitely_ too close for her to be able to teach me in a class".

"So what are you going to do?" Neville asked.

"I'm going to send this letter to Madam Bones, and then I'm going to enjoy my free period," Harry deadpanned, "I'd like to see Dumbledore try force me into a classroom with a woman I have a restraining order against".

"I don't think he would," Hermione argued tightly. "We don't agree with each other about him, I know, but I don't think he would do something so blatantly _bad_. Everything he's done so far has been for your sake, but you both don't see eye to eye about what that is".

" _We_ doesn't see eye to eye about what is for my sake?" Harry asked coldly, "At least I'm willing to try. If he started _talking_ to me then maybe we could see eye to eye, but he won't even _look_ at me!"

Hermione's jaw clenched. "We're not talking about this," she declared bluntly, "We agreed that we weren't going to talk about this remember?"

Staring at her for a moment and ignoring Neville's confused expression, Harry nodded slowly and turned away from her. "Right, sorry," he mumbled, returning to the letter.

He and Hermione had come to a rather tentative arrangement last night. They would simply be friends again, even though as not close as they once were. And in return neither of them would try convince the other towards their side of the 'war', Harry could (and did) swear up and down that Dumbledore didn't have his best interests at heart, and Hermione could (and also did) insist that Dumbledore did the best he could and that it was only logical that not everyone would be happy with him. But as long as they did that when the other wasn't around, they could return to their hesitant friendship.

Harry still thought that she was wrong for following Dumbledore's orders during the holidays, but since Hermione was admitting that _maybe_ he was right, he was willing to give them a chance to return to their old friendship.

It was awkward, but it was worth it in the long run.

"Here Hedwig," Harry began, quickly rereading the letter once more before rolling it up for his owl, "Madam Bones. Obviously," he added when Hedwig shot him an unsurprised look, his snowy friend snatching the letter in her talons before diving out of the window and shooting off into the sky gracefully.

"What are you going to do?" Neville asked slowly, "It'll take her most of the day to get to the Ministry of Magic, you'll still have to put up with Umbridge today".

"No I won't," Harry denied smugly, "Because the restraining order is magically bounding, she can't claim she didn't know I was too close because the contract will warn her somehow".

"Besides," Hermione added, surprisingly un-bushy hair bouncing over her shoulders as she shook her head, "She may have thought she'd get away with your trial, but there's _no_ way she's dumb enough to have a go at Harry on the first day of school when she's already been caught once. No court would let her get away with that".

Snorting as a thought crossed his mind, Harry grinned at Neville. "If I show up to Defence then she can't, we'd have a free period".

"Don't even think about it," Hermione warned. "She may not be a good person, or someone at _all_ appropriate to hire for a school, but we still need to learn".

"Especially since You-Know-Who is back," Neville agreed, making the girl beam at him happily. "The book she assigned _is_ a bit dull though," he added.

"I said we needed to learn, not that she needed to teach us," Hermione clarified, looking a little embarrassed by her confession. "If her lesson plan is _anything_ like the book, then this year Defence against the Dark Arts will be a class for self-study like History of Magic," she said, "And you _will_ both be studying, OWLs are this year after all".

Nodding quickly when Hermione shot him a warning look, Harry stretched and grinned evilly, pushing himself away from the windowsill and heading towards the staircase down into the castle.

"Where are you going?" the girl asked, shocked by his sudden movement.

"To breakfast," Harry called over his shoulder, "Come on, if we want a seat right next to the staff table then we better hurry".

"If he sits next to the staff table then where is Umbridge going to sit?" Neville asked, his voice bouncing down the stairs after Harry.

"I think that's the idea".

* * *

 **IGNITION**

* * *

"Are you done, Mister Potter? If so, could you please come with me?"

Blinking up at Professor McGonagall with the best expression of innocence that he could muster up on such short notice, Harry smiled politely but looked towards the stack of steaming pancakes in front of him. "What is this about, Professor?" he asked slowly, "Because I don't think I'm that full at the moment".

The Professor's lips just tightened as her eyes narrowed at him. "I think we both know what this is about, Mr Potter," she said sternly, not looking like she was in the mood for him to try anything. "And while I appreciate your desire to ensure you eat a full and healthy breakfast," McGonagall continued, hunching over so she could lower her voice casually, "I think you'll find there is a clause in your Protection Order that says if you're caught abusing the Order then it will be revoked".

Harry froze – he _really_ needed to finish reading that thing – and glanced at his plate again. "I guess I can wait until lunch," he decided, "I'm probably not as hungry as I think I am".

"A wise choice," Professor McGonagall agreed, straightening up and gesturing towards the entrance to the Great Hall, sweeping off and leaving Harry to hurry through the clear space left in her wake. "I know you and I do disagree on certain things that have happened recently, Mr Potter," the woman said quietly as they turned into an empty hallway, "But I cannot stress to you the importance of keeping this Order valid. The Headmaster happens to believe the same as Madam Bones, that the coincidence of the dementor attack and the contents of the fake letter is no coincidence at all".

Almost running into the Professor's back as she stopped suddenly and turned to face him, Harry watched as his Head of House sighed, looking her age as she ran a hand down her face. "The Headmaster requested that I beg something of you before we reach his office," she admitted. "He wants you to think on the ancient proverb ' _the enemy of my enemy is my friend_ '. While he acknowledges that the two of you have disagreed on things in the past, he – and I – wish for you to understand the potential for danger that Dolores Umbridge brings. You heard the Sorting Hat's song last night?"

"For our Hogwarts is in danger / From external, deadly foes / And we must unite inside her / Or we'll crumble from within," McGonagall quoted, eyes not moving from Harry's face. "You have a common enemy, and if you don't stand together you'll fall divided".

With that the Professor was turning and continuing on her path as some laughing Ravenclaws moved past the entrance to their corridor. Staring after her for a moment, Harry thought on her words, quickly catching up and walking beside her silently. He couldn't deny that she had a point, he couldn't exactly fight Voldemort – not that he really _wanted_ to do that – on his own. And while Umbridge wasn't a threat that quite reached Voldemort's level of sheer evilness, unless he wanted to just incinerate her, he'd need help taking her down a non-fatal way. And Dumbledore was nothing if not a politician.

"Okay," he blurted, nodding his head with a confidence he wasn't so sure he felt. "Does he have a plan?"

"If he does then he hasn't shared it with me," Professor McGonagall admitted after a weighted pause.

Biting back the sarcastic 'Of course he hasn't' that immediately leapt to the tip of his tongue, Harry shrugged. "Then I guess I'll have to improvise," he mumbled, ignoring the startled look he was sent as they rounded the corner to find Dumbledore's gargoyle waiting for them at the far end of the corridor.

"Before you start that, there is something you need to do first," the Professor said slowly. "It should be obvious that Professor Umbridge-" she spat the name like it was a disease "-is waiting for us inside the Headmaster's office. For the two of you to be able to inhabit the same room for the length of this conversation, you need to verbally give her permission to approach you".

"Do I have to mean it?"

Professor McGonagall shot him a _look_ before turning on her heel and striding off towards the gargoyle, forcing Harry to sigh and chase after her. "Do I need to say it to her face? Or can I say it anytime?" he asked instead.

"You need to be clear and precise," McGonagall explained, "And she needs to hear your voice, so if you wouldn't mind saying it the moment we step into the office. Thankfully the contract won't punish her if, for example, she is on the floor above you completely unaware of your presence. The moment she confirms that, yes you _are_ directly beneath her, then she will be forced to either move or get your permission to be that close to you. Magical contracts like this are rather complicated," she added with a sniff, "But you are not the first to attend Hogwarts with one red vine".

Blinking in confusion at the rather random sentence ending, Harry jumped slightly as the gargoyle moved suddenly, realising it must have been a password as Professor McGonagall gestured him up the stairs.

"Just _try_ to behave," she whispered, "Don't egg her on, try not to even look at her".

Mentally promising to try his best to follow Professor McGonagall's request, Harry knocked on the door once and opened it, clearing his throat and stepping into the room. "I give you permission to be around me for the duration of this meeting," he announced, earning an approving noise from behind him as he fought down a scowl at the sight of both Cornelius Fudge _and_ Lucius Malfoy standing in the office.

Ignoring the dark glare being sent at him from the pink blob in the matching armchair, Harry stepped further into the room as Professor McGonagall's hand nudged at his back. "You wanted to see me, Headmaster?" he asked politely, reminding himself of the old man's quote and 'suggestion'. He was especially willing to work with the old man now that he knew Malfoy was here, if the platinum blonde was involved then so was Voldemort, there were no doubts about that.

Although, it was strangely pleasing when he glanced around and saw that the Headmaster's office hadn't changed one bit since he'd last been in it. There were still countless silver objects puffing and turning away on the small table by the door, and he got the faintest whiff of smoke from the empty perch by the window. And that didn't count the rows of portraits on the walls of the unashamedly eavesdropping former Headmasters and Headmistresses of Hogwarts.

"Ah, Mister Potter, yes," Dumbledore agreed cheerfully, having either forgiven Harry already or being just as willing to pretend everything was perfect as Harry was. "I wished to inform you as to the change in your timetable this year due to your situation. Professor McGonagall has already prepared a smaller classroom for you to use while studying Defence against the Dark Arts, to limit contact between yourself and Professor Umbridge".

"Now see here, Albus," Malfoy piped up immediately, sneering at Harry for a moment before turning to face the Headmaster fully. "I see no reason for the boy to get special treatment. He will attend the same classes and have the same teachers as everybody else".

"And just what do you think you're doing here, Malfoy?" Professor McGonagall interrupted, "As I recall you were dismissed from the Board of Governors years ago. This meeting does not concern you".

"Actually I'll think you'll find it does, _Minerva_ ," the smug blonde corrected, "Don't you agree, Minister?"

"Of course I do," Fudge sneered in a pale imitation of Malfoy. "After all, my old friend here has recently been appointed as the Ministry of Magic's official representative on the Board of Governors. But what are _you_ doing here Minerva?"

Professor McGonagall's eyebrow rose tightly as she rose up to her full height, almost tripling her intimidating aura as she looked down her nose at the pudgy Minister for Magic. "I'm here in my official capacity as Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts, _Cornelius_ ," she growled out, the man beginning to shrink back with a look of regret, "A position I held _long_ before you even started at Hogwarts, as you well know".

"Quite," Malfoy drawled, stepping forward to cover his 'old friend's ass, Harry narrowing his eyes as he watched the man's hand caress the snake-head of the cane Harry knew the Death Eater's wand was hidden within. "I was called here because of your complaint about Dolores' appointment here at the school due to her disagreements with a student. I'm here now," he continued, Harry already knowing where this was going, "And I see no reason to remove Dolores from her rightful position for one mere school boy".

"How is she supposed to teach me if she's not legally allowed to _talk_ to me?" Harry questioned quickly as he heard an intake of breath from beside him, being too smart to turn his back on Umbridge but not wanting to be able to see her.

"Simple," Fudge declared, having regained what little bravery he had as he stepped forward, "I am here as Minister for Magic to order you to recant your accusations against Dolores and repeal the Order of Protection you hold against her".

Harry didn't even need to think about it for a moment before he was replying with an amused "No". Shaking his head as the Minister gaped at him, clearly unprepared for Harry to argue with him, he moved closer to where Professors McGonagall and Dumbledore were waiting and turned back to face the three stooges.

"I- what?"

"I said 'No'," Harry repeated bluntly.

"And quite rightly, I believe," Dumbledore cut in behind Harry as Fudge's mouth opened again, a swishing of robes indicating that the man had stood up from behind his desk. "Being underage, had her false accusations and frauds been successful, Mr Potter's wand would have been snapped and his memories erased," he explained in that calm voice that always seemed to captivate Harry when he was the focus of it. "Committing such unlawful actions are normally punishable by a life sentence in Azkaban, and here you stand ordering her victim to allow her to go free so she can teach in a position she is not legally permitted to hold?"

"Actually, Headmaster, I think you'll find Dolores to be _more_ than qualified to teach," Malfoy corrected.

"Having taught Ms Umbridge myself, I highly doubt so," Dumbledore shot back with a smile. "But I had been talking about her lifetime ban from seeking employment at _any_ Ministry position, and was it not the Ministry that placed her here?"

"No".

Stiffening as Umbridge finally spoke up, Harry refused to look at her as the stout woman let out a high pitched " _Hem hem,_ "and pushed herself out of her chair. "The wondrous Minister had nothing to do with my coming here," she corrected, Harry feeling her eyes boring into the side of his head, "I was approached by Lord Malfoy here who wished to put my name forward for the position, that the Ministry of Magic allowed the Board of Governors to bypass your approval to interview and approve candidates for the role is irrelevant. After all, Albus, as you are so _fond_ of reminding Cornelius, Hogwarts is not under Ministry control, therefore my unjust punishment does not apply here".

Frozen in place as he went over her claim, Harry glanced back at the Headmaster to see what he already knew reflected in the man's sky blue eyes.

Umbridge was staying.

She and the Minister had found a fool-proof way of getting her into the school without tripping the limitations of either the Order of Protection or her formal punishment by the Wizengamot. And the moment Fudge managed to force him to drop the Order, Harry knew that Umbridge would be dragging him by the throat into detention, likely where there would 'accidentally' just 'happen' to be a dementor or two waiting. It wouldn't be the first time after all.

"Be that as it may," Dumbledore countered, nothing in his voice or face showing the frustration he _must_ be feeling at the situation, "That does not justify the Minister for Magic attempting to force her victim into rescinding a legal Order of Protection to ensure she does not bring further harm to him".

"Dolores never tried to harm the boy! He is merely lying for the attention!" Fudge exclaimed.

"I'm sorry, but weren't you there when she was found guilty in front of the whole Wizengamot after evidence was given against her?" Harry blurted, unable to help himself as Fudge went the same sickly white colour as his Aunt Petunia went whenever he brought up magic around her.

"I think that is a marvellous point, Mister Potter," Professor McGonagall agreed stiffly, "I believe that asking for a separate room to study Defence against the Dark Arts during class time is a highly acceptable request, _especially_ considering your circumstances. Which is why I fully support the Headmaster's decision and have already prepared such a room for you, I am also prepared to give up some of my own time to mark your work and prepare your lesson plans".

"Thank you," Harry said hesitantly, staring at his Head of House in shock for a moment before relaxing slightly at the look in her eyes. "Thank you," he repeated more strongly, smilingly gratefully at her and nodding his head to show he accepted the apology shining in her green eyes.

She still supported the Headmaster, but it was good to see that like Mrs Weasley she wasn't willing to give up all her morals when it came to him. Harry wouldn't be surprised if he soon noticed that she was standing up against Snape for him.

Okay he would be surprised, but it would be the pleasant type of surprise and not the bad kind.

"Absolutely not!" Fudge argued, slashing his hand through the air dramatically. "No student will be given special treatment! No matter their supposed fame".

"I'm sure the Board of Governors will agree with you completely, Minister," Malfoy began, looking like he'd already won.

"Then you won't have any problems with me summoning them here to vote on the issue, would you Lucius?" Professor Dumbledore agreed slyly, an expression flashing across Malfoy's face that suggested he'd swallowed a fly. "After all, I'm sure Minerva's grading will be much harsher on Mr Potter than Dolores' would be, considering that out of the two Minerva _is_ the only one who passed her Defence against the Dark Arts NEWT".

Hearing a muffled angry noise coming from Umbridge, Harry risked a peek to reveal that her face had gone a red that even 'Uncle' Vernon would be jealous of, as she shot dark glares at both the apparently unaware Headmaster and the sweetly smiling Professor McGonagall. It seemed that – unluckily for Harry – Umbridge was quick to anger, which would probably explain her attempt on Harry's life (something he _still_ wanted revenge for) and subsequent fraud charges. She would have assumed she'd get away with it and that the Minister would back her even if she didn't.

"I see no reason to waste their time, or mine," Malfoy denied simply, the steel to his voice betraying his anger.

"Precisely!" Fudge continued, not seeing the way Malfoy's lips pressed together or his eyes flashed at his interruption. "So repeal this ridiculous Order of yours, Potter, and we'll be on our way!"

"Alright," Harry agreed with a shrug, making the man perform a double-take in shock. "I'll repeal the Order of Protection _if_ she gets the proper _legal_ punishment she would normally get for her crimes. There would be no 'special treatment'," he promised making Fudge smirk and rise up to his rather pitiful full height as he opened his mouth to agree. "I'll lose any protection I have from her, and she'll go straight to Azkaban for the fraud and the attempts to get my wand snapped and my memories wiped. No special treatment for either of us," he continued as the man's mouth fell open in shock and his eyes bulged comically.

"Deal?" he asked innocently, smiling his politely smile as he held his hand out to the Minister.

"I think not," Umbridge refused, stomping across to stand in front of the Minister defensively. "And that will be a hundred points from Gryffindor for disrespecting the Minister for Magic," she added spitefully.

"But of course due to your relationship with Mr Potter I think it would hardly be appropriate for you to be able to assign punishments to him," Dumbledore mused from behind Harry, "Don't you agree Dolores?"

"Hardly," the toad spat.

"Excellent, we are in agreement," Dumbledore said quasi-cheerfully. "I will personally check every single punishment you assign Mr Potter to prevent any accusations of biased teaching from being levied against you, and I suppose might as well check those of Mr Potter's friends too in case they attempt to claim you're punishing them for being associated with him".

Umbridge's eye twitched.

Harry hated her twice-fold now. _Nobody_ targeted his friends to get to him, _nobody_. He'd willingly gone up against a basilisk with nothing more than a sword because his best friend's sister was in danger. He'd jumped on a troll's back to save Hermione, and they hadn't even been friends yet. Harry swore he'd just break down and curse Umbridge in the corridors if she tried to hurt his friends to punish him.

"That is _more_ than fair, Headmaster," Professor McGonagall agreed quickly, shooting down any argument from Fudge or Umbridge, even as Malfoy stood there clearly recognising he'd lost this battle before it had begun.

"Is there anything else you wished to discuss, Minister? _Mister_ Malfoy?" the Headmaster questioned, Harry glancing over in time to see the man returning to his seat behind his desk with a grandfatherly smile on his face. "No? Then I'm sure you would like to show yourself out," he suggested with a gesture to his fireplace, "After all, we're all busy men, are we not?"

"Indeed we are," Malfoy drawled slowly, pausing slightly between each word. "Await my next visit, Albus, I'm sure with the way you run this school it'll be soon".

"Too soon, I'm sure," Dumbledore deadpanned, eyes twinkling.

As the sneering blonde was engulfed by green flames, the Headmaster turned to face Fudge who stared at him for a moment longer before sniffing indignantly, turning a glare on Harry and exchanging a knowing look with Umbridge before sweeping through the fireplace himself.

"Hem hem," Umbridge coughed. "I shall return to my office," she declared coldly, "Prepare for my lessons. Which I am _very_ qualified to teach," she added with a scowl at Professor McGonagall.

The door slamming shut behind her left Harry standing alone with Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall, the silence hanging in the air as they all stared at three separate unoccupied areas of the office. When no one spoke, Harry shifted on his feet and started towards the door. He had an Order of Protection to read and friends to update, and he was sure the Professors would be busy as well, so he wouldn't keep them for what would obviously be a very awkward conversation.

"I'm glad to see you were able to put aside your dislike for me, Mr Potter," the Headmaster's voice rang out, making him freeze halfway across the office. "It is encouraging that the collapse of our relationship has not prevented us from working together. The Ministry is not a foe we can face alone".

Staring at the door, Harry just nodded his head once, knowing that Professor Dumbledore had seen the gesture and knew what it meant.

"Mr Potter," Professor McGonagall added the moment he took a step forward, the woman moving around Dumbledore's desk to stand beside him. "Report to my classroom after Divination ends today," she instructed, "You will be studying in a room coming off my class from now own. And you _will_ be studying," she added warningly, narrowing her eyes to slits, "I will tolerate no more slacking off or misbehaving than I would if you were in my classroom, keep that in mind, Mr Potter".

"Of course Professor," Harry promised immediately, not having planned to slack off or misbehave at all.

When the Professor nodded and returned to the Headmaster's desk, Harry started moving towards the door again, a quiet murmur starting up behind his back as McGonagall said something in a whisper and Dumbledore responded.

' _The enemy of my enemy is my friend_ '.

Oh to hell with it.

Pausing in the doorway, Harry glanced over his shoulder to where Dumbledore was exchanging a look with Professor McGonagall. "I don't trust you," he admitted bluntly, making his Head of House look to him in shock as the Headmaster's eyes dropped to his desk. "I don't trust you and I don't really like you right now, but I don't like Voldemort more. We may not be on the same team, but we're on the same side. The enemy of my enemy is my friend, and while you're not my friend, you're definitely not my enemy either. So just… just don't lie to me anymore".

Throwing open the door and starting down the staircase before either of them could respond, Harry shook his head as the door closed on its own behind him. Listen to him, being understanding and compromising, Hermione would be proud.


End file.
